


Vitra te Ikran

by TciddaEmina



Series: Vitra te Ikran [1]
Category: Avatar (2009), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Flora & Fauna, Amnesia, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Magicless!Harry, Minor Violence, OC Relationships - Freeform, Rewrite, Slow Burn, Warning: Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Worldbuilding, new version
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:39:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 96,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TciddaEmina/pseuds/TciddaEmina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He opened his eyes to a gradient of green and a lingering feeling that something was wrong.</p><p>A sound to his left make his ear flick - he pushed down another spike of panic. Since when did his ears flick in the direction of sounds? - and he levered himself off the ground, pulling himself up with the help of a nearby tree root. He didn't know where he was, didn't know who, or what, was out there. It wasn't safe to just hang about in the open, not with-</p><p>Not with what? The thought teased at him, slipping out of his mind like smoke between fingers every time he tried to remember. Not with what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jake Sully

**Author's Note:**

> This is the new version of Vitra te Ikran. If you're looking for the old one then its the other one in the series. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reviewed and commented on my question. It was really helpful! Generally this one follows in the same direction as the old version, though with new bits added and old bits changed. Some scenes, like the prologue, remain largely the same but have been tweaked a little - so don't be surprised if you see bits you recognize form the old version. 
> 
> Enjoy! And have a happy festive season!

“Let's run through them again,” Grace said, shoving holo-pad in front of his face for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last two days. Jake rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway. He grabbed for the pad, but Grace held it out of reach, only bringing it back down when he lowered his hand. She thrust it back in front of him, flicking her fingers across the screen and bringing up the image of stern faced Na'vi.

Neytiri's mother frowned at him from the picture, looking as ill humored and grumpy as ever. What was her name again? She was the shaman or something, yeah? “Mo'at. The dragon lady.”

Grace pulled back the holo-pad, summoning up the next image. Jake felt like he was playing the alien edition of guess who, only this time the stakes were diplomatic relationships with an alien race. No pressure at all. He glanced at the picture, recognizing it immediately.

“Atucan,” Jake said after a moment's hesitation. He doubted Grace would accept 'cheif guy' as an answer. She'd probably skin him alive for even thinking it. Grace was funny that way. 

“ _ Eytukan _ . Hes the clan leader, but she's the spiritual leader. Like a shaman.”

“Okay, okay. I got it.”

Grace scowled, flicking her cigarette and breathing out an irritated whisp of smoke. She was only missing fangs and some scales and then she'd be a veritable dragon herself. “Well, you won't have it if you call him that to his face. Names are important, especially to the Omaticaya. Mess it up and half the clan won't talk to you.”

“And the other half?” He asked, more to piss her off than because of any real interest. Grace was one tough piece of work but as long as you didn't fuck around and mess up her science she wouldn't to more than chew you out a little. Usually.

Grace just looked at him. And yep, there you go. You could tell she was about a second away from throwing the pad at his head for his idiocy.

“You don't want to know what the other half of the clan would do. You haven't got many friends there, Marine.” She said bluntly. Grace took another drag of her cigarette. “Now enough with the dumb questions. Let's get on with it.”

Jake rolled his eyes. He rolled to a stop beside the pod, beginning the complicated process of hauling himself. Grace moved as if to offer him a hand but he waved her off, receiving a holoppad shoved in his face in response. Jake glanced at it, grabbing the material of his trousers and hauling his legs up into the pod.

That one was easy, the guy hated his guts. If he had anything to worry, it was this guy. Jake had no doubt the he'd would sooner stick him full of arrows than even look in his direction. “Tsu'tey.”

“ _ Tsu _ 'tey.” Grace corrected, scowling.

“ _ Tsu _ 'tey.” Jake parroted obediently.

“He'll be the next clan leader.” Grace said, loading the next picture. Neytiri. She was younger than she was now by at least a year. He grabbed the holo-pad, bringing it closer. It was a beautiful picture, there was a rare smile on her face as she talked to someone off screen, an expression he'd only seen once or twice in real life.

He couldn't help but smile a little, her name rolling of his tongue easily. “Neytiri.”

Grace made an affirming noise. “She'll be the next Tsahik after Mo'at. She and Tsu'tey would have become a mated pair if it hadn't been for Isonali.”

“Who?” Jake said, dragging his legs into the right position. Every time he came back his body felt even more restricting. It was like that first year stuck in the wheelchair after the accident all over again. He couldn't wait to get back to the village, back into his avatar, where he he could actually move, run, even just being able to stand on his own two feet without needing people to help him.

Norm leaned on the end of the pod, hanging around just to watch Jake suffer, he reckoned. He scoffed at Jake's question. Evidently someone was still in a bad mood. “Isonali te Hufwe. Or Isonali of Wind. He's the clan's top flyer and aerial hunter. Best they've ever had. The Omaticaya say he has the soul of an Ikran, thats how good he is. You'd know this if you'd had _any_ training.”

“Who's got a date with the chief daughter?”Jake smirked, enjoying Norms put upon scowl. He was still bitter about Jake getting an in with the clan while he and the other avatars, you know, the proper scientists, were still banned from entering Omaticaya territory. He'd get over it eventually, or Grace would kick his ass for sulking round like a kid while on the job.

“Anyway what'd he do?” He turned to Grace, ignoring Norm. A dark thought creeping into his mind. “He's not engaged to Neytiri or something, is he?”

Grace just _looked_ at him, the sheer intensity of how unimpressed she was was astronomical. And alright, fair enough, he wasn't a genius like his brother, but how the hell was he supposed to know all this shit? He'd only been hanging out with the Omaticaya for a couple of weeks and most the time Neytiri was trying to teach him every single skill she could down, practically cramming their clan histories down his throat in an effort to get him up to standard. It didn't leave much time for random chit-chat with the clan, and even if there was he doubted he could get more than five Na'vi combined to talk to him. Most of the clan was beyond apprehensive at his presence and some, mostly Tsu'ety's faction, were outright hostile.

“So?” Jake prompted, undeterred.

Grace fiddled with the pod controls, prepping it for activation. She rolled her eyes and sucked on her cigarette, exasperated. “No, he's not engaged to Neytiri.”

That Jake felt a wash of relief at her answer probably wasn't a good sign. “Then what did he do?”

“Ask him yourself.” Grace said, “Now lets go, village life starts early.”

He took the hint and settled into position, letting her bring down the monitoring frame, flickering lights and cables and all. A push of a button set the lights flashing, the frame whirring gently as the device went to action monitoring his body while his mind was away. Glancing over to make sure everything was in place Grace tapped at the pod console, pulling up the activation sequence.

Just before the lid came down Grace paused, hand slapping down on the side of the pod.

“Don't do anything unusually stupid.” She ordered. There was a threatening gleam in her eye that left him with no trouble imagining just what she would to to him if he bungled up their one chance of getting back in favor with the clan.

Jake grinned and reached up a hand, giving the pod lid the small tug it needed slide closed. He was enclosed in a world of green foam for the few seconds it took Grace to finish activating the pod and send his mind spinning out of his body and through the link to his avatar.


	2. And in this new world

He opened his eyes to a gradient of green and a lingering feeling that something was wrong.

He was in a jungle unlike any he'd ever seen. It stretched around him in a million shade of green and blue, gigantic trees reaching as high as the eye could see, arms laden with vines that hung down through the air. Creeping plants bursting out in explosions of colour from high in the branches.  The air was thick and hot against his skin, spicy with the taste of unknown flowers and sitting in his lungs with a foreign heaviness.

Flashes of movement could be seen in every direction. There was always something moving in the corner of his eye, and for a moment he thought he caught a glimpse of something blue swinging through the trees high above. It was gone again before he could turn to look. Off to his left insects scuttled through the roots of a great tree, shiny shelled and glinting in a dazzling array of poisonous colour when they passed through the light.

He went to push himself up and stopped, staring. Blue. His hands were blue. There were even little stripes, lines of lighter and darker blue decorating his skin. He turned his hands over, frowning. Surely it should be lighter than this?

A sound to his left make his ear flick - and he pushed down another spike of panic. Since when did his ears flick in the direction of sounds? - as he levered himself off the ground, grasping hold of a nearby tree root. He didn't know where he was, didn't know who, what, was out there. It wasn't safe to just hang about in the open, not with-

Not with what? The thought teased at him, slipping out of his mind like smoke between fingers. Not with what?

He needed to find a mirror, something, anything. There were clouds in his head that weren't clearing, settling heavily over his mind like a storm, shrouding his memory and leaving him unsettled and without answers.

The first few steps were clumsy and awkward. His balance was off, and it only took a second to figure out why. He had a tail. He very purposefully turned his eye forward and didn't think about it. He could deal with that, with all of this, in a moment.

He could hear the tinkle of flowing water in the forest not far away, and he made towards it, casting a curious eye the plants as he walked. They were strangely alive - more active than they should be. Growing at the base of a tree there were small polyps with vivid orange fans that swayed back and forth against push of the wind. They flinched when he came too close, quivering beneath a gentle touch and retreating entirely when he pressed a little too hard.

Odd, perhaps, but not too unusual.

Some were less innocent than others, He circled around a particularly energetic plant with long spines shook threateningly when he came too close. Flat compressions along the leaves opened to reveal wicked thorns when he look at it too long. Truly menacing, like something he'd see in-

He scrubbed his hands across his face, frustrated. He couldn't remember what he'd been going to say.

A little beyond the menacing plant was a small river that crept along the ground, trees opening around it to give it space. Water gathered in small clear pools in the rock, trickling down through the mess of interlinking roots in a lazy downhill flow. He crouched down, carefully stepping around the thickest of the roots, some larger than his torso, leaving him climbed over them before finally getting to the water. It rippled, small waves lapping across it's surface, and he leant over it, curious.

The face that stared back was a conundrum of familiarity and unfamiliarity. The sight of golden eyes, inclined with a feline tilt made him blink. There were additions to his body that were different, unfamiliar, and in some cases entirely new, out of place for all that they were his. He prodded at his teeth, grimacing at the second set of canines he wasn't quite sure should be there. They felt unnaturally sharp against the pad of his finger.

When he tried to fall back on his reasoning he found himself grasping at thin air. He knew something was strange, knew something was somehow different than before like he knew the sky was blue. And yet when he looked at the sky it was almost more green than blue, a massive planet hanging in the space above them as if it had been there an eternity. And it probably had.

Unsettled, he turned back to the water. He tried, but for the life of him he couldn't picture  what he should look like if not like this.

And yet... the shape of his face was familiar. He glanced away, dipping his fingers into the water, sending out ripples that shattered his reflection. The water was cool and clear against his fingers, and he cupped it in his hands, bringing it to his mouth.

The water was beautifully clean but... odd. Like everything else it had a taste he couldn't quite place. It kept throwing him off. Everything was just slightly different from what he expected - just the sight of the strange four armed monkeys swinging their way high through the canopy had been enough to make him stop and stare, the great shadow of something flying high above the high treetops, like a bird but so much bigger, enough to send him springing for cover, alarmed for reasons he couldn't quite remember.

He sighed, dipping down for another handful of water. Little white pinpricks, like stars in a blue sky,  danced across the gentle lapping of the waves. It was a pretty image, calming, and it let him relax enough to consider that, perhaps, just perhaps it wasn't as bad as he had thought.

He froze with the water halfway to his lips, staring downstream. There was a creature there, head bowed to the river. It had to be at least five meters head to tail, built like something from a nightmare - thick muscles swollen beneath its dark hide and long powerful legs that ended in a deadly set of claws.  Flexible plates extended from its skull in a crown, ending in long quills that moved back and forth, twitching as if of their own volition.

It didn't seem to have noticed him yet. He held his breath, staying absolutely still. The creature's mouth opened to reveal teeth the side of his fingers, probably strong enough to crush bone as it lent down to lap at the water. Whatever it was, it was a predator. If it saw him, if it got those teeth in him, he was dead.

Had it seen him yet? Had it smelled him? He had no way of knowing. Any second it could spot him.

Slowly - _slowly_ \-  he dropped his hands, letting the water run silently back into the stream. His heart hammered in hs chest, and he inched back, not taking his eyes off of it.  The spiny tree was at his back and it bristled at his approach. He kept going. Between a prickly tree and that, there was no choice at all.

The creatures quills stilled, twitching. His heart stopped in his chest, hands tightening until his nails dug into his palms. He was sure he hadn't made any noise, hadn't done anything. So how-

Its head lifted, golden eyes looking straight at him. He sucked in a breath. Oh, Merlin, fuck. He gave up at attempt at secrecy and scrambled backwards. The first touch of the spines made him pause, but only for a second. Their touch was light at first, barely a scratch, but the further he moved the deeper they cut, all the more painful for the knowledge he was doing this himself. He winced but bit his lip and kept going.

The creature stepped forward, plates around it's skull flaring our, quills on the end shivering intently. One clawed foot dipped into the water, slow, not making a sound. He inched backwards, gritting his teeth when they bit into his skin. Already he could the trickle of blood running down his shoulders.

For one long moment it watched him, and for a second he thought it might not attack at all. But then he saw its eyes.  Yellow, poisonous yellow, and fixed on him with a deadly sort of hunger. They almost seemed to glint. That was all the warning he got before is sprung forward, powerful legs launching it at him in a flurry of coiling muscle and sharp, sharp teeth.

He threw himself backwards, scrambling beneath the thorny arms of the tree. It quivered at his touch, spines bristling out. With one last shake the tree exploded outwards, firing barbed thorns in every direction. A couple went straight for the creatures face while he, tucked away safely by the smooth base of the tree escaped with nothing more than a few nasty scratches.

It yowled. The barbs caught in it's flesh, tearing the skin and muscle beneath. Dark blood poured out where it pawed at its face, trying to get them out. It wouldn't be distracted for long.  Already it had managed to remove a couple of the barbs. It made him jump to action. Right. As soon as it got them all, maybe even before that, it would be after him again and this time the tree wouldn't be able to protect him. It was drawing its branches back close to its trunk protectively, spines spent.

He crawled out the from the tree, making a break for it while he still could. A deep whispering part of his mind knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun it. It was too fast, too well adapted for the environment,  and he was in unfamiliar terrain, exhausted and clumsy. He couldn't hide - even if he managed to get himself out of sight, it would find him. It had noticed him without looking at him, without him even making a sound.

No, hiding wouldn't work.

A rustle of leaves was all the warning he got before it was upon him once more, claws hitting the dirt only feet behind him. It snarled, gathering itself to pounce once more, and he threw himself out of the way. Even the it's claws caught him along his side, burning across his back and hip. He pressed a hand to it, gritting his teeth against the pain. He couldn't stop moving. It would be a death sentence.

He stumbled through a patch of long grasses, leaving them blood streaked and broken in his wake, and emerged face to face with a herd of monsters, grey skinned and built like bulldozers. They bellowed when they caught sight of him, bright fans opening above the great bulk of their hammered heads. He ran straight at them, ducking around them as quickly as he could, trying not to get too close.

He heard rather than saw when the creature appeared. Their bellows grew shrill and angry. They stamped their feet and swung their head threateningly, more than one of them almost hitting him in the process.With the new threat appeared they seemed to forget him completely. He could only hope it stayed that way.

The creature hissed, pacing back and forth before the herd, it's own plates spreading in a warning display. This was a meeting of monsters, equally matched and more than capable of bringing each other down. He moved though the herd slowly, hoping to slip away without drawing the herd's attention.

But his pursuer hadn't forgotten him. Even now its eyes tracked him from across the herd. It's attempt to circle around was met with stamping feet, prompting the first bull to charge. That was enough to set off the rest of the herd, and as one threw themselves into charge, even the smallest trumpeting a war cry.

Despite his best efforts he got caught in the stampede, leaving him to dodge recklessly out of the path of more than one of the charging giants. He ducked out of the way of one's horns, only for it to send him into the path of another, and he bounced of it's side like a twig against a boulder. It hit him like a tonne of bricks and he grit his teeth against a cry of pain as it jarred his side. He was left stumbling, trying to evade the army of crushing legs as the creatures raged around him in a mob, throwing their heads back and forth in a relentless attack.

A single hit from one of them would be enough to shatter bones. He didn't want to think what would happen if he stumbled and got caught beneath the thundering press of their massive bodies.

Behind him one of them squealed with pain. He had to lurch out of the way as the herd pushed forward with renewed vigor, forcing the predator to retreat, driven back by the combined might of the herd. He didn't waste any time watching the end of the encounter, finally slipping out the back of the herd with a breath of relief.

He pushed himself into a painful jog. He needed to get somewhere out of reach, where it couldn't get him even if it saw him. The entire jungle had taken up the warning cry of the herd, creatures in the undergrowth clicking and chirping as they skittered to safety. High in the tree's creatures shrieked in agitation, and he looked up, noticing not for the first time the sheer size of the trees. They stretched for dozens of meters into the sky, branches growing thick and long in all directions.

Up. He needed to go up. The sides of the trees were riddled with vines and creeping roots that descended from plants perching high above. They grew in a dense network around the trunks of the trees, wrapped tightly around the trees or hanging freely through the open air. He stumbled towards one, taking a hold of one of the roots and hauling himself up.

It was a difficult climb.His hands were bloody from holding his wounds and the vines were slippery to begin with. He dug his fingers in hard, pulling himself up the winding path of the vine, each new hold hauling him a little higher. In the distance he could hear the bellowing of the herd receding and he relaxed a little, taking a moment to gather his breath before reaching for the next branch.

The attack came without warning. In a terrifying snarl or teeth and claw the creature threw itself up the side of the tree after him. He was at a fair height, mostly out of reach, but that didn't stop it. It claws caught him along his leg, raking deeply down his calf and across his heel as it tried to yank him down.

With a desperate lurch hauled himself higher, grabbing at the vines trying to get a foothold. His hands were shaking, his head spinning, and face was pale, chilled with a cold sweat. The world was blurring before his eyes are he fought to blink through the pain.

The vine. He needed the next vine. He had to go up.

He reached blindly, fingers brushing along the bottom edge of something and coming back empty. It was too far away. He couldn't make it. He was going to die.

No. He grit his teeth and forced his eyes open, looking again. There, a vine. It was out of reach, yes, but only just. One good push and he would be able to reach it. Below he could hear the creature prowling, hear the hiss of breath between its teeth as it paced impatiently back and forth, snarling up at him every few minutes.

He sucked in a harsh breath. It would hurt. Merlin it would hurt so much. He cut himself off, acting before he lost his will. It needed to be done. He could do it. He could-

He threw himself to the side and jamming his injured foot into the next handhold. A shout forced itself up his throat and he didn't try to stop it.

Blindly he reached for the next vine, sending a praise to every god, any god, he could think of when his fingers wrapped around it. He pulled, sobbing breathlessly as it took the weight off his leg.

It was a haze after that. He had to use his injured leg again at one point, and he almost lost his grip, it hurt so much. When he finally hauled himself up into the cradling arms of the tree he curled in the moss, clutching his leg and sobbing. It was all he could do just to grit his teeth and breath, fighting the need hold his breath, clench his fists and beat them against the tree as if that would somehow help.

Distantly he could feel blood running down his leg, soaking the moss red and puddling in the cracks of the bark. Drops of it ran over the side, trickling down through the leaves and to the forest floor. That, more than anything, seemed to torment the creature the most. It's howls growing ever more ferocious. He pressed his hands to his face, trying to shut out the sound

All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere and sleep the rest of his life away. He was still bleeding. That was important. Urgent. He couldn't fall asleep now. Every moment the wounds were open he grew weaker, and if he lost too much blood there would be no turning back.

A little along from him there was a cluster of plants growing on the branch, their long flat leaves weeping over the edges of the branch and into the open air in a tumbling cascade. He look a breath. He needed to-

He pressed his hand to the wound on his heel, tensing against the spike of pain. A deep breath again. Breath through it. He'll be okay. He just needs to breath through it.

\- put pressure on the wound. It would lessen the bleeding, give him more time.

Okay. Next. What was next? He glance at the wound on his side, paling at the sight of it. It was raw and ragged but it wasn't bleeding much, blood already starting to clot on the surface. He couldn't quite turn to look at the rest of the scratches across his back but he pressed a hand to them none the less, happy to find that the scratches were relatively minor.

He sent a tentative glance at his foot and cringed, eyes jerking away immediately. Blood. So much blood. He thought he might have seen his muscles. His eyes were screwed shut, and he forced them open, looking back at the wound. It was better than he thought. It's claws had missed his tendons, barely, and he was breathlessly grateful that he couldn't see any bone.

He needed something to cover the wound, to hold it close and stop stuff getting in it. His eyes flicked back to the plants speculatively. That... could work. He hesitated. It could be poisonous, could be covered in bacteria or Merlin knows what that could mess up his wounds. He needed something to cover the wound before he passed out or he would bleed out. Already darkness was threatening the edges of his vision - he didn't have much time.

The meter between him and the plants was torture. He crawled along at a snail pace, stopping every second minute to wait for the dark spots to clear from his eyes. His fingers closer around one of the trailing leaves and he yanked it, ripping it from the base of the plant and pulling it close. It had a slightly rubbery texture but it was flexible and bent without problem, so he wasted no time in tightly winding it around his ankle and calf in a makeshift bandage, pulling it as tight as he could.

Even if it couldn't stop all the bleeding hopefully the pressure would help a little. He collapsed as soon as he finished tying the bandaged. The wound on his side would have to stay uncovered - he didn't think he could have bandaged his torso right now even if he'd tried.

He didn't last long after that. He dragged himself a little closer to the plants, curling up between two of them. Hopefully they would stop him from slipping off the branch while he was out.

* * *

He was almost surprised to wake up. He'd had a dim fear that his wounds would prove too great and that he'd just slip off quietly during the night, so actually waking up was a great relief.

For a long time he couldn't muster the energy to move, not able to do more than lay in the plants and doze. The pain in his leg had dulled to an angry throbbing, but he had no doubt the moment he so much as thought about moving he would be doubled over in agony once more.

It was already sometime past midmorning. Sunlight was filtering through the gaps trees, little beams of it dripping through the vivid canopy. Over the edge of the branch he could see the layers of the forest, the crowded press of the undergrowth far below.  Fewer plants grew at these heights, but those that did expanded to fill all available space. A single plant sometimes draping itself across several trees in a tangled network of leaves and small budding flowers. Thick mosses clung to the tree trunks in patches, carpeting the tops of the branches.

The aching hunger that had been growing in his belly peaked, forcing him to finally stirr. His throat was dry as sandpaper and his stomach felt like something alive, grumbling and aching in complaint. He weighed the idea of getting up and trying to find something to eat, eventually deciding that he probably needed to get some food in him if he wanted his wounds to get any better.

Slowly he rolled himself over, groaning faintly when he tried to lever himself to his feet. He managed an uncomfortable crouch. His hands were pressed firmly to the ground as he tried to keep his weight off his injured leg. The throbbing had returned with a vengeance sometime while he was trying to get up, and it lingered even in his success. He didn't try to stand up. Already his head was starting to spin, anymore and he might pass out.

There was a curious chattering from above. He looked up, finding a dozen pairs of golden eyes staring down at him through the greenery. Noticing they were spotted, several blinked,  disappearing completely, leaving no trace of their ever having been there save the rustling leaves. One or two, more bold, stuck their heads out to get a better look, revealing small turquoise faces, hairless except for two tufty bits by their ears.

Their eyes were large and intelligent. With a start he realised they were the creatures he'd spotted earlier swinging through the trees. He tensed. They didn't look aggressive but he'd already had one bad encounter with the local wildlife and it had put him on his guard. He was weak, vulnerable. If they attacked he was in no position to defend himself.

But they just blinked at him, cocking their heads curiously. Then with a happy chatter one disappeared back into the leaves, the rest following. A moment later he glimpsed a couple through the greenery, swinging away using their four long arms.

He watched them go. Finally he sighed, turning back to the task at hand. It took him a good half an hour of miserable crawling to reach the end of the branch, where he paused. There was a good drop between his branch and the next. He soon realized why. Branches up here stretched out in a network, spreading out and crowing so that every tree touched each other, sometimes directly, sometimes connected by lines of vines that hung down from branch to branch. He had reached the end of one tree's reach. To continue he would have to clamber his way onto its neighbour.

He hesitated, staring at the drop. If he slipped it would be one hell of a drop, and he didn't think he had the strength to catch something on the way down. But he couldn't put it off. He had to find food.  

There'd been a vine with bulbous yellow fruit at one point, but when he'd tentatively bitten into it it had been rancid and bitter, like something left too long in the sun. He managed to choke down a couple of mouthfuls but only just. Having a full stomach had helped, a little, but only for a while, until the fruit had made him violently sick. The nauseous feeling still lingered even hours later.

His audience had returned at some point. They loped around in the branches above him, chattering to one another as they watched him. He tried not to pay them much mind but couldn't help but glance cautiously at them now and then. They hadn't shown any signs of attacking so far, and for the most part they seemed shy, tending to hide if they caught him looking.

He shuffled to the edge of the branch, hesitantly edging towards the drop. It took him a bit of complicated wrangling with a nearby vine but he managed to drop down to the next branch without accidentally killing himself.

He had a bit of luck after that, stumbling across a pitcher plant growing on the side of of the branch.  it was an odd thing, with a dozen round leaves, each filled with a small basin of water. It looked clear enough and didn't smell funny, so he braved a sip. It tasted clean if a little odd - sweet somehow.

He flopped onto his side and letting himself just breath, relieved when the aching of his leg lessened a little. The wounds on his back twinged painfully when he moved, pressed against the bark, but it was only a background noise compared the throbbing agony of his leg.

Exhausted and sore, he lay there. As he watched a flying lizard a little bigger than his hand glided down to the pitcher plant, the spinning fan on its glowing a warm orange when it passed through shadows. It glanced at him briefly, small black eyes peering at him intensely, before turning away and clambering up the side of the branch, long tongue flicking out to dip in the water. It stayed there awhile, so well camouflaged  with its fan closed he wouldn't have known it from just another part of the tree if he hadn't seen it land. It sunned itself in a patch of light not far from him, seeming content just to ignore him, leaving in a swirl of orange sometime later.

At some point he must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew he was startled awake when something landed beside him. One of the strange monkeys was swinging away, leaving a glossy red fruit sitting by his lap.He prodded it, remembering his last attempt at eating strange fruit. It smelled faintly sweet, pleasant, and that was enough to set his stomach rumbling. Eventually he decided to brave it. When be bit into it the skin burst, dripping sweet juice down his chin.

He finished it in three large bites, chewing with his mouth full to bursting and licking his fingers when he was done, chasing the last dripping juices. It wasn't enough to fill him completely, but the ache in his stomach lessened. The creature was watching him from within a cluster of branches, a couple of its buddies having joined it. They chattered with obvious delight. He smiled at it wearily. "Thanks."

The day had passed more quickly than he'd thought. Already night was approaching, the air growing cooler. He roused himself. He needed to find somewhere to sleep before he lost the light entirely.  For a second he considered making back towards the place hed slept last night, but thought the better of it. He didn’t think he’d be able to climb the drop, especially in the dark.

Instead he went in the other direction. In a careful crawl he managed to travel along a few of the narrower branches and up to the trunk of another great tree. Two of its larger branches, a little higher up, spread from the trunk in a v, leaving a bit of an indent between the trunk and branches. A bustle of ferns had taken up root there, spreading out and dangling their leaves over the edge of the branches.

He curled up there amongst the springy ferns, and tried to block out the haze of pain enough to get to sleep. He was just beginning to get drowsy when the light finished dimmed. It never went fully dark, lingering in the twilight no matter how many hours passed.

It was only as he was just on the brink of sleep that he saw it. At first he thought he must be imagining it and rubbed his eyes. It took him another moment to realize it wasn't just his imagination. His eyes flew opened, and he stared, awed and amazed, as the ferns around him began to glowed faintly, the dark prints on their leaves turning a soft pink as the last rays of light faded from the sky.

It wasn't just the ferns. He sat up. All around him the jungle was lighting up in gentle glowing patterns, blues, pinks and pale purples appearing on every plant in sight. Those that had been most mundane in the light shone most brightly at night, even the moss on which he'd crawled without a second thought turned a pleasant green, speckled with pinpricks of brighter light.

The places he touched glowed brightest, and when he reached out, running his fingers along the long lef of a fern. It lit up even brighter than before, the light remaining for a few moments, leaving a trail of light that slowly faded out.

He trailed his fingers back and forth, watching the moss brighten beneath his fingers then slowly darken again. Carefully, he maneuvered himself onto his back gazing up at the canopy. Brilliant patterns glowed softly everywhere he looked, spots and stripes and swirling lines lighting the night with a faint glow. And despite the pain of his leg, despite his exhaustion and hunger and trauma of the last few days, he couldn't help but smile.

Because this? This was beautiful in a way that made his heart lift. The lingering pain and stress tensing his muscles fading just that littlest bit at the sight of it.

He didn't know how he'd missed this. Days he'd been running around in the jungle, yet he hadn't caught a hint of it. He'd always been unconscious or asleep before the sun set, waking only once this nighttime display had long faded beneath the light of day. Along his hands and up his arms small pinpricks of light glowed gently, lighting up in unknown constellations along his arms. Sleepily he wondered what they were, remembering the faint spots he'd seen hidden amongst the patterns on his skin.

They'd been on his face too, he remembered, and was almost tempted to crawl his way back to the pitcher plant to see if they glowed too. Another time, he decided, too tired to try it.

He admired the night glow a while longer, listening to the distant noise of animals moving in the night. Far below something was yipping and howling, rousing a little alarm, but whatever it was passed without incident.  Eventually his yawns grew too large and he curled up in the ferns, leg twinging every once in a while, before finally closing his eyes.

* * *

The monkey creatures had grown bold while he slept and when he woke it was to one of them tugging at his hair. He mumbled sleepily, lifting his head, and dashed away with an alarmed chatter, dropping over the side of the branch and swinging back to its friends. It didn't go far, settling on a branch a couple of meters away, chewing gamely on a tough piece of root it had tugged off a nearby hanging plants as it watched him.

Beside his head, half hidden amongst the ferns lay a couple more of the red fruit. His fingers twitched towards them, stomach rumbling. He paused, turning to look at the creature. Several others had joined it on the branch and they were all watching him, for once silent, some gnawing away at roots, others holding the same red fruit they'd so generously given him. They were waiting to see what he'd do.

He looked at the fruit, then back at them. Finally he picked one up and popped it down on the branch a little out of the way. He left it there, taking to the other fruit with a ravenous hunger.  It ran down his chin, wet and sticky, but he was too hungry to care. He was more careful with the last, sucking at it through a hole in the skin before finally taking a bite.

The bone deep exhaustion that had plagued him since that first day had lessened a little but he was still tired and sore. His leg still throbbed like nothing before, even small movements enough to make him pause, breathless with the pain. There was a fuzzy quality to his thoughts that had gotten worse since waking. He felt muddled, cloudy, as though his head were stuffed with wool. All he wanted was to curl up and go back to sleep, maybe wake up again when he was feeling less horrid.  

He hadn't looked at his leg wound since he'd wrapped it up, but he knew it wasn't good. He was reluctant to undo the bandages and start the bleeding afresh, not when there was nothing he could do for it, He just had to hope nothing too nasty had gotten into it.

He must have dozed again - it was happening more and more often. He just slipped off without realizing it - because when he woke up the fruit he'd put aside was gone.

Looking around, he couldn't seen any signs of the monkeys. He could hear them though, their chatter distinct and loud enough that when he craned his neck he managed to catch a glimpse of a couple swinging the trees.

"Thanks." He said, knowing they couldn't hear him, and probably wouldn't understand him even if they could. It made him feel better anyway. He watched them until they disappeared from sight, the last of them vanishing through the trees in a flash of turquoise.

He was on the verge of dozing off once more when he heard something. Rhythmic thumping. An animal moving down below? He almost dismissed it, there were always animals moving around the forest, even in the middle of the night. But then-

Voices.

He sat up. People. He crawled awkwardly to the edge of his makeshift nest, peering over the side. He hadn't been mistaken - there were people down below, as strange and blue as himself. They were riding large six legged mounts he could only describe as almost horse-ish, in the way that a lion was almost a kneazle. They were making good speed, and he was half sure that they would pass him by completely without ever realizing he was there.

Should he call out? They were the first people he'd seen since waking up here. But he hesitated, biting his lip.

In the end the choice was taken out of his hands. He must have made a sound, because the next thing he knew one of them was looking up, meeting his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you interested in knowing more about Pandora's creatures, I'll list them in the notes as they appear in the story along with the link to the wikia. They'll be listed with the Na'vi names since that's how the character comes to know them, but the names used by humans are avaliable on the website.  
> Palulukan - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Thanator  
> Angtisk - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Hammerhead_Titanothere  
> Syaksyuk - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Prolemuris  
> Kenten -http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Fan_Lizard


	3. Strange Encounters

It was barely a glimpse but it was enough to make Tsu'tey pause, his pa'li slowing. He could feel her agitation, her confusion, a mirror of his own thoughts. He laid a hand on her side reassuringly and breathed a wave of calm through their bond. "Easy, there is no danger. Be calm."

Ahead his father noticed his absence and circled his pa'li round to join Tsu'tey, the rest of the party following suit.  Tsu'tey stared into the trees, still searching, and when he didn't respond Ateyo prompted his pa'li into a trot, coming to rest beside Tsu'tey. "What is it? What have you seen?"

Lo'ak followed him, hands going to his bow. His pa'li snorted in agitation, wide eyes casting  fearfully in all directions.

"Was it a palulukan? I have been told one has been seen nearby recently."

Tsu'tey shook his head, frowning up at the branches. "No. I think there's someone up there."

Ateyo following Tsu'tey's gaze, brows drawing together thoughtfully. There was nothing to be seen amongst the canopy. No hint of a person to be seen. "Who? None of the clan said they were coming this way today. They would have greeted us."

"I didn't see them well enough." Tsu'tey admitted, shaking his head.

"Perhaps someone from another clan?" Lo'ak suggested, but even he sounded unconvinced. No Na'vi traveled far from their clans without reason, and certainly never without announcing themselves. The Omaticaya were on good terms with all neighboring clans and those beyond were so far away that clans were almost indifferent of each other. Na'vi had not waged war on each other in a thousand years, and a peace like that was not easily broken. And if that were the case, the Omaticaya would know - every clan would know.

One of the warriors made a noise. "Ateyo, we cannot wait."

Ateyo said nothing. He stared up at the trees, his eyes scanning the branches. Whoever it was was hiding, even Tsu'tey had only caught a brief look at them before they disappeared. If he had not met their eyes, had not seen them widen with surprise and then pull back completely, he would have thought it was nothing but a trick of the light.

"You keep going," Tsu'tey said. "Continue the patrol." Eytukan had ordered them to make a round through the Omaticaya forests and return back with the latest news of the Skypeople. It was an important task, one that should not be delayed. He was easily spared, only present because his father thought it would be a good experience. "I will look into this."

Ateyo gave him a searching look, but nodded. "Then we will leave it to you."

With a sharp cry Ateyo threw his pa'li back into a run, the rest of the warriors taking up his call and following. Lo'ak lingered a moment, casting a cautious look up at the trees. He put his hand on Tsu'tey's shoulder, clasping it firmly.

"Be careful. I do not like this secrecy - it worries me. It is not a good sign."

"I will be fine," Tsu'tey said, slipping off his pa'li and drawing his bow. Giving her one last reassurance he gently released his tsaheylu with her. Her breath releasing with a woosh, feet stamping at the ground as the connection was broken. "Go."

Lo'ak did not wait for more, pa'li leaping over a high out-cropped root and disappearing from sight, the sound of them quickly amongst the ambient noise of the jungle. Tsu'tey stoked the side of her neck soothingly, making sure she was settled before letting her wander off to feed on some nearby flowers. He turned his gaze upwards once more.

Tsu'tey scaled the tree carefully, keeping his ears keen and moving without a sound. He nocked on his bow, but didn't draw it yet. Somewhere off in the jungle a group of syaksyuk was chattering, and beyond them he could hear the distant bellowing of a passing herd of talioang. Neither sounded alarmed. A good sign - nothing was disturbing the jungle.

Something moved behind him and he turned just in time to see the a patch of springy ferns several feet away rustle. He drew his arrow, bringing it up, ready to fire, and stepped forward. Cautiously, he parted the ferns with the tip of the arrow. He relaxed - the ferns were empty, nothing there but leaves and a few buzzing insects.

He lifted his bow, turning, only for someone to grab him from behind. With a snarl he kicked out, delivering a hard blow to their stomach with his elbow, aiming to throw them off balance as he. His attacker let out a pained gasp but their grip only tightened.

Tsu'tey struggled against their grip, ducking and just managing to get enough wriggle room to whip his bow around, striking his assailant with the springy wood. It hit them like whip and they fell back with a pained whine. Tsu'tey turned, drawing his arrow in a smooth motion and aiming it at their head.

He blinked, confused. It was a boy, barely a year or two younger than Tsu'tey himself. He stared up at Tsu'tey with wide eyes, breath coming hard and fast. He was bleeding a dozen small scratches across his shoulders and upper arms, a couple more of serious looking cuts just visible on his side and-

Tsu'tey sucked in a harsh breath. His leg was caked in blood, deep lacerations visible beneath the boy's make-shift bandages. The amount of blood was worrying, what little he could see of the wound through the bandages deep and severe

When Tsu'tey stepped forward, lowering his arrow, the boy flinched, frightened eyes fixing on his bow. Tsu'tey loosened it immediately, letting the arrow drop harmlessly to the ground, tumbling off the edge of the branch. He raised his hands, stepping away, and the boy scrambled back immediately, dragging his leg behind him. It snagged on a vine and the boys face went deathly pale, his breath hitching.  

The boy, stubborn as a talioang in its prime, kept going, wriggling backwards even as he visibly struggled to stay upright. Tsu'tey's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't stand to watch it any longer.

"Don't move." He ordered sharply, and it was only when the boy’s eyes flickered to him, hands clenching by his sides as if he was getting ready to fight, that he realized how that must have sounded. He tried again, more calmly, gesturing to the boys wound. "You'll make your leg worse."

The boy glared at him, looking ready to run at any moment. He must have seen something in Tsu'tey's expression because a moment later he gave a minute nod and stilled. His eyes followed Tsu'tey's every move suspiciously, but he no longer looked like he was going to throw himself off the branch trying to get away.

He tensed when Tsu'tey approached.  Tsu'tey set his bow aside, well out of reach as a gesture of goodwill and slowly crouched beside the boy. He carefully inspected the bandages, gently prying them away to get a better look at the wound.

The boy grit his teeth, unable to contain a small hiss, but he didn't pull away. Tsu'tey pulled the leaf off a little more, looking beneath. The skin around the wounds was flushed an angry red, the edges of the wounds already starting to fester.  Tsu'tey swallowed and sent a prayer to the Goddess. Even Mo'at, for all her renowned healing skills, would have a hard time fixing that.

Gently he covered the wound again, not touching it further. He turned to the boy, very deliberately keeping a bit of space between them. "You need help." He said, meeting his eyes straight on. He glanced towards the boy's leg. "If it gets any worse it may kill you."

Turning a sickly shade of green, the boy looked at his leg. Up close Tsu'tey could see the flush of fever on his face and the slight glossy quality of his eyes. He might have survived up until now but he wouldn't for much longer, not without medicine and proper food and rest. Tsu'tey didn't know much about healing, not like Mo'at or Sylwanin, but he had seen enough to know the wound was serious.

The boy fixed his eyes on Tsu'tey. There was a stubbornness to him, a raw determination in his eyes that left Tsu'tey treading carefully. One wrong word and the boy would run, serious wound or not. "Who are you?"

"I am Tsu'tey, son of Ateyo, of the Omaticaya." Tsu'tey said. He held out his hand. "Let me help you."

The boy bit his lip. Finally he took Tsu'tey's hand, and Tsu'tey helped him to his feet, bringing the boy's arm over his shoulder and stepping in to support him on his injured side. Together they managed to limp down to the ground.

Tsu'tey's pa'li snorted as they approached,  dancing backwards, agitated by the smell of blood. Tsu'tey laid a hand on her neck, her pulse thrumming against his palm from deep beneath her thick hide. "Be calm." He murmured, grabbing his braid and bringing it around to form tsaheylu. "Be still."

It took a bit of maneuvering but they managed to get the boy sitting securely on her back. Tsu'tey swung himself up behind him, careful not to press on the wounds on the boy's back, and directed her into a gentle trot back towards the hometree.

Soon it was visible through the trees, its great arms spreading high above the canopy as if it were cradling the sky itself. He could see people moving high in the branches, hear the singing of his people interspersed with the usual clamor of people going about their day. They were almost at the southern approach when people firsr began to spot them, shouts of surprise going up as they caught sight of the boy in his arms.

The journey had been too much for the boy and about halfway through he'd slumped back against Tsu'tey, unconscious, his skin feverish and clammy to the touch. Word must have gone ahead because Mo'at met them on the approach.With the help a couple of concerned Na'vi they managed to extract him carefully from the back of the pa'li, laying him down on the ground. Mo'at wasted no time in inspecting his wounds, her face going grave at the extent of the damage.

"Take him to the healing chambers." She ordered. "His wounds must be tended immediately."

Another two clan members stepped forward to help and together they carried him up the winding paths up the hometree. Tsu'tey trailed behind them, answering Mo'at's questions as best he could.

"He didn't say anything," Tsu'tey said, "but he understood what I was saying. He didn't seem delirious. He was aware of his surroundings right up until he collapsed."

Mo'at narrowed her eyes, turning back to the boy. "Perhaps there is hope then. The wounds cannot be more than a couple of days old - it is possible the sickness has not set in too deep."

"But what caused them?" Tsu'tey asked. "This does not look like a nantang attack."

"It was a palulukan." Mo’at answered gravely. Tsu'tey almost stumbled, sending a disbelieving glance at the boy dangling unconscious in his clanmates arms. "I have seen wounds like this before, but never on anyone alive. It is a miracle. The Goddess must be very fond of him."

Tsu'tey looked upon the boy with new eyes. To escape an encounter with a palulukan, alone and unarmed, and so young, was something. And after that to survive in the jungle for who knows how long with such grievous wounds...It was an impressive feat.

"Will he survive?" Tsu'tey asked, finally dragging his eyes away.

"That is to be seen." Was Mo'at's reply. "We will do all we can for him."

Her face was grave, her voice tinted with grim determination. The expression was mirrored by more than one of his clansmen. It was a sad thing to see one so young so injured. Children were precious, those that survived the perils of infant hood even moreso. And even then some fell prey to the dangers of the jungle before reaching Iknimaya.

The climb to the healing chambers was long an arduous, made all the moreso by the efforts of those carrying the boy to keep him comfortable and avoid jarring his wounds. Word had spread fast through the clan and as they rose through the hometree more and more people appeared, more than one breaking into soft prayer to Eywa. His death, should it come to pass, would be greatly mourned among the clan.

Tsu'tey stopped at the entrance to the healing chambers, watching as they set the boy down. Mo'at was in her element, her voice like the crack of a whip as she summoned her apprentices and began work on the boy. The Na'vi who'd helped carry him quickly got out of the way, making way for the healers. Tsu'tey watched for a moment longer, until one of the apprentices gave him a solemn nod and pulled close the curtain of vines that acted as a door to the healing chambers, blocking the chamber from sight and leaving the healers to work undisturbed.

Many visitors passed that way, each and every one curious about the boy's fate. Tsu'tey answered their questions as best, keeping a respectful silence when several stayed for a while, singing prayers for the boy. They came and went, some staying longer than others, but eventually they moved on too. Tsu'tey didn't know why he stayed. Perhaps it was because he had found the boy, because he felt responsible for him in some way.  

Ateyo returned sometime late in the afternoon, appearing up the winding coils of the hometree. He stopped beside Tsu'tey, looking at the closed vines of the healing chamber.

"I heard what happened." He said. "You handled the situation well."

The words send a faint stirring of pride blossoming in his chest. His father had always been a serious man, even in Tsu'tey's childhood, always more the type to show affection through silent gestures than open words. The death of Tsu'tey's mother had affected him greatly, leaving him even more withdrawn and solemn, if that was possible. It took Lo'ak and Tsu'teys combined efforts to draw him out of his shell at times.

Tsu'tey never once doubted his father's love for him, nor his pride in him. His praise, for all that it was rare, was all the more precious for it.

Ateyo laid a warm hand on his shoulder. He drew Tsu'tey in close, settling down to join him in his wait outside the healing chambers. "Come, tell me more about it."

Tsu'tey had just finished speaking when the vines drew aside and Mo'at stepped out. Her expression was drawn and tired, but there a cast of relief to her eyes that made Tsu'tey straighten hopefully.

"How is he?" Ateyo asked, looking through into the healing chamber. Tsu'tey followed his gaze. The boy lay where his clanmates had left him, his smaller cuts covered in healing paste, the smell of it pungent even from the entrance of the chamber. The blood had been washed from his leg and hodge-podge bandages removed, revealing the full extent of his injury. His leg was cushioned carefully so as not to disturb the thick slather of cleansing herbs that had been left to seep into the wound. It was worse than Tsu'tey had initially thought, but simultaneously better. The sickness was not as set in as he had feared.

"We done all we can for him now. He will survive the night, Eywa willing, and after that he will recover." Her hands still smelt faintly of blood, enough that Tsu'tey's sensitive nose could pick it up even beneath the pungent smell of her herbs and remedies.

"His injuries will not affect him?" Ateyo asked, the faint trace of worry in his voice belying the full depth of his concern. "If the tendon has been cut-"

"No." Mo'at shook her head. Tsu'tey physically felt the relief, losing a tension to his shoulders he hadn't even known he'd possessed. The jungle was not kind to those who could not sustain themselves, and though the clan always did their best to help, those too grievously and permanently wounded often found themselves called back to Eywa earlier than their kin. "It was close, but the muscles are intact. So long as there are no complications he should be able to walk unhindered. But should the infection return..."

"Is that likely?" Tsu'tey asked. Mo'at shot him a knowing look, but took no offense at the interruption. She had two girls of her own, she knew how teenagers could be.

"We have gotten rid of the worst of the infection. If he manages to overcome the initial sickness then his body will be stronger and it is unlikely to return. But that is up to Eywa now. If he makes it, he will likely make a full recovery - though the scars will never go away, they are too deep."

She fixed her eyes on him. "Now go rest, both of you. There will be a lot of work to be done tomorrow, and it helps no one for you to linger here, agonizing over the boy."

Ateyo nodded, and Tsu'tey did not protest, letting his father lead him away. Mo'at was right and he knew it, but it didn't stop him from taking a final glance at the boy before they turned to leave, muttering a prayer of his own to Eywa beneath his breath.

He slept restlessly, waking up a solid hour before the first stirrings of dawn, when the only light was that of the night glow. Unable to go back to sleep and unwilling to spend the next hours lying there sleeplessly, he clambered out of bed, careful not to wake his father or disturb Lo'ak and his family sleeping nearby.

Even at this early hour people about, some having woken early, others having not yet gone to bed. Clan life continued at all hours of the day, even during the darkest hours of the night. Greeting a few people as he passed, Tsu'tey made his way down to the ground chamber.

The fires were still lit and they cast an eerie glow against the walls of the hometree. The smell of food being roasted lingered in the air, and Tsu'tey followed his nose to a small gathering of Na'vi around the main bonfire. They were warriors and hunters, out for an early start, and they shifted to accommodate him, inviting him to share their meal.

The first part of the meal continued in silence, but Tsu'tey knew it would not keep. Finally one of them asked, peering at him across the fire. "You were the one who brought in the boy yesterday, yes?"

The rest of the group turned to look, ears twitching. They didn't bother to hide their interest. Tsu'tey eyed them, a little reluctant to go spreading information around when they boys fate was still so uncertain. Finally he nodded.

"Did the Tsahik say anything about where he came from?" She asked, leaning in. Tsu'tey shook his head. "He passed out soon after I found him and he hasn't woken since."

Murmurs broke out among the group. Their interest didn't surprise him. This ordeal with the boy was big news amongst the clan. It was not every day an unknown child was found dying in the forest, and people were curious to find out exactly how it happened.

"All I know," Tsu'tey said, taking a bite of the skewer of roasted insects one of the warriors had passed him, "Is that he managed to survive an encounter with the Palulukan."

That set off another round of discussion amongst the warriors, many of them impressed, others hard faced at the thought of  it even happening. "Alone?" One man asked. "Unarmed?"

When Tsu'tey nodded he whistled. "We'll have to keep an eye on that one - Eywa holds him in favor."

"Enough." Another snapped, glaring at the rest of the group. They quieted immediately, chastised. The man had stayed out of the conversation so far, willing to simply listen, but now he said his part. "This is no matter for light discussion. That was no position for a child to be in. It is lucky he even survived."

Tsu'tey founding himself nodding, grateful when the others let the topic go without further questions. The hunters provided a source of relief, easily starting up a conversation about the last hunt and what game was in the area. While the warriors might not dedicate themselves to hunting the same way the hunters did, they still hunted often enough to join in eagerly.

"The talioang should be passing through soon," one commented. She was one of the older hunters, her years of experience and success marked out in the beads in her hair and the make of her material - all of it quality, and much of it sourced from the jungles more dangerous prey. Not many could boast of taking down an angtsik by themselves.

The others nodded appreciatively, agreeing. "It's worth scouting them out. Perhaps they will come close enough for a proper hunt - it has been a long time since the clan has held a proper feast, not since the joint hunt with the Siwana'ate."

When the sun properly breached the horizon people began to filter down from the higher levels of the hometree and the morning meal began in earnest. Most of the warriors had left by then, the hunters in the group setting off even earlier on to make the best of the dawn. The man who'd quieted the others paused when he left, stopping beside Tsu'tey.

"Keep an eye on the boy, will you?" He said. His face was stern but when his eyes flickered to Tsu'tey he could see the hint of concern there. "It will be a relief to hear when he recovers."

"I would have anyway," Tsu'tey replied, holding his ground. The man looks at him, snorts, and claps him on the back. "Good."

He stayed until the end of the morning meal then headed back up the hometree towards the healing chambers. Mo'at and Eytukan looked up as he entered and Tsu'tey almost excused him and return at another time but Eytukan stopped him before he could, motioning for him to join them.

Tsu'tey touched a hand to his forehead respectfully. "I see you, Eytukan."

Eytukan returned the gesture. "I see you, Tsu'tey son of Ateyo." Tsu'tey looks past him, trying to be subtle as he inspected the boy. He was sleeping again. Some of the colour had returned to his face and he no longer looked like he might just fade out between one breath and the next.

Eytukan followed his gaze. "Mo'at has told me of your interest in the child. We were discussing him."

"Hs presence alone in the jungle is concerning, especially so far from the other clans' lands." Mo'at continued, taking over where her mate had left off. Their mating may have been arranged, but all the clan knew there was a genuine affection between them. Together they were a formidable team - one that had brought the Omaticaya to peace and plenty.

"Did he not say how he got here?" Tsu'tey asked, curious despite himself. It feels wrong to be so impertinent before Eytukan - like being a naughty child before his father. Though he knows Eytukan would not rebuke him for something as small as this, the feeling still sits wrong with him, and he tried to swallow it down.

There was the smallest hint of amusement in Eytukan's face, visible in tilting the corner of his mouth and warming of his eyes. "You were not mistaken. He did wake up, however-" Eytukan trails off. "The situation is complicated."

"He has lost his memory," Mo'at explained, not beating about the bush. "He has no bruises, no head injuries we can see that could have caused it, yet when asked he cannot even state his own name. It must be something deeper. For some reason Eywa has sealed away his memory - whether it returns or not is for her to decide."

"He does not remember his own clan?" Tsu'tey asked, shocked. The Omaticaya clan is a part of him right down to his bones. He has spent every moment of his life a member of the clan, eating with them, singing with them, sharing their stories and growing beneath the guiding hand of the clan. He tries to imagine a life without it, a life not remembering it, and comes up short. It is unimaginable.

Eytukan nodded. "I have sent messengers to the clans. If we are lucky he may be of the Kekuna'an or the Siwanaati. Yet I doubt that will be the case." That they would have heard if one of the clans were missing a child goes unsaid. The loss of a child is not the sort of thing that is kept quiet.

"You think may have something to do with the Skypeople," Tsu'tey said, insides going cold. Everyone knew the Skypeople were strange, that they did not follow the ways of the Na'vi, did not follow Eywa. But to do this...? Tsu'tey thought of the way they tear up the earth with their metal machines, burn the plants and kill animals yet leave their bodies to rot untouched. No, he thought, perhaps this was not beyond them after all.

"Do not think too much on it," Eytukan warned, voice stern. "There may still be an innocent explanation to this. We must wait to hear what the clans have to say."

Tsu'tey nodded, solemn, but can't help the small curl of cold anger that lingers in his stomach. The Skypeople were not trustworthy and eventually they will prove it. It was not a matter of if but when. Eytukan saw the expression but didn't scold him further. He too was wary of the Skypeople, and for good reason.

"We must go," Eytukan said. "there are matters to be attended." He nodded approvingly at Tsu'tey and turned to leave.

Mo'at paused at the door.

"Stay with him." She ordered, as if Tsu'tey were going to do anything else. Or perhaps that it why she says it. "He may wake again. If he does get him some food and keep him company, answer his questions. Getting upset and trying to get up would set back his healing."

Tsu'tey nodded, agreeing immediately. "It will be done."

Mo'at looked at him for a long moment, her gaze searching. She must see what she was looking for, because she noded. "Perhaps Ateyo was right, perhaps you are ready for Unaltiron."

Tsu'tey blushed faintly under the praise and bows respectfully. He is young to have his Unaltiron, the youngest in the last six years if he remembers correctly. It was a great honor to be thought ready so early. Mo'at left without another word, drawing the curtain of vines closed behind her as she went.

It was perhaps an hour after Mo'at and Eytukan left before the boy began to stir, groaning as he shifted in his sleep, his eyes slowly blinking open. Tsu'tey fetched some water, returning in time to offer the bowl to his parched lips. The boy drank deeply and Tsu'tey had to tilt the bowl away to stop him from spilling it. When he slowed down, Tsu'tey eased up, letting him finish it at his leisure.

The boy looked around cautiously, fingers fiddling with the edge of the bed mat. He eyed Tsu'tey for a moment, obviously remembering him. When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse and rough with sleep."Where... are we?"

"The hometree of the Omaticaya." Tsu'tey replied. "You are with my clan. Our Tsahik, has been taking care of you."

The boy looked down, examining the herbal pastes and bandages covering his wounds. "So that's what these were. It's so different from-" He cut himself off abruptly, a lost look coming over his face. He blinked, tearing his eyes away from the treatments and focusing on Tsu'tey.

"Thank you. For helping me, I mean." He added awkwardly.

"You are Na'vi," Tsu'tey said as if it's as simple as that. And it was. Clan or not the boy is one of their people, one of them, and the Na'vi take care of their own. No other reason was needed to help someone in need. "I would not have left you to die. No one would have."

It's obvious the boy didn't know what to say to that, so Tsu'tey continued. "Are you hungry? Mo'at said you should eat."

The boy bit the inside of his lip, but hesitantly nodded. Tsu'tey set down the bowl of water, fetching the food Mo'at's apprentices had left waiting. It was a mix of syalsi berries and young piak larvae. Tsu'tey can remember eating them on more than one occasion himself when he was ill. They were rich in energy - good for promoting healing. Hopefully they would do the boy some good.   

He peered into the bowls, skeptical. The berries he accepted easily enough, picking one out and popping it in his mouth, finishing the rest of the berries soon enough. But he doesn't touch the grubs, leaving him staring desolately at the bowl, glancing nervously at Tsu'tey ever so often as if he isn't quite sure what to do with them.

"You can eat these too." Tsu'tey said. The boy didn't look reassured. Amused, Tsu'tey reached over picking up one between his thumb and forefinger. The skin is slimy with a slightly rubbery texture to it. Tsu'tey bites through it, the rich inside spilling out over his tongue. It had a slightly earthy taste to it, but it wasn't unpleasant. He smirks at the boy's barely contained look of revulsion and the way he tried to subtly lean back when Tsu'tey offers the bowl to him once more.

"You'll have to eat them sometime." Tsu'tey said. The boy shot him a defiant look, glancing at the bowl skeptically, but hesitantly reached out and took one of the larvae. He looked physically pained putting it in mouth but after a few reluctant chews his expression cleared. Still, Tsu'tey noticed, he didn't reach for another one.

With an amused huff, Tsu'tey put the bowl away. When he returned the boy was looking around, inspecting the healing chambers. The vines at the entrance sway gently, the occasional snippet of conversation somewhere deeper in the hometree flitting through. The chamber was lit by pale rays of light that dripped through minute gaps in the walls, where two great twisting pillars of the hometree met, their joining leaving a faint crack that  could be traced all the way up the exterior wall. On the far wall hung dozens of bundles of dried herbs, giving the room a mixed tangy scent, while a collection of bowls and tightly sealed stone jars lined the shelve carved into the living wood of the wall.  

Tsu'tey watched him take in the room, the way his eyes lit up ate every new thing, shining with curiosity.  He lingered on a patch of rawp bulbs that grew on one of the high shelves in the corner of the room, lighting it up with a dim blue glow. Craning for a closer look, the boy tried to sit up, only collapse barely halfway up.

Tsu'tey grabbed his arm before he could fall, easing him down gently. "You should not move. Mo'at said not to let you get up."

The boy huffed, but let Tsu'tey guide him back down onto the bed mat nonetheless. "I feel sort of weird. Weaker than before, if that makes sense."

Tsu'tey wasn't surprised. "Mo'at must have given you something to numb the pain. It doesn't cloud the mind, but it does have a paralytic paralytic." At the boys look of alarm Tsu'tey backtracked, embarrassment at his misstep, and quickly moved to reassure him. "It is very mild. It laxens your muscles a little, making it hard to move. It'll wear off in a couple of hours."

He still looked hesitant, but he accepted the explanation, relaxing back down onto the mat.He tries to hide it, but Tsu'tey catches the wince that flashes across his face. It was only there for an instant, quickly replaced by a stubborn frown. "If it is starting to wear off I can get Mo'at-"

"No." The boy shook his head. "It's fine." There was a tenseness to his shoulders that Tsu'tey did not like. He was getting stressed, uncomfortable. Tsu'tey frowned. He couldn't rest like this.

With a sly smile, Tsu'tey concocted a plan. "At least this time you cannot trying to strangle me when I try to help."

The boy scowled at him, indignant. "What- I thought you were going to shoot me! How was I supposed to know you were friendly when you run around pointing arrows at everyone you meet!"

Tsu'tey kept his face straight, smothering a laugh, but he couldn't help the way the corner of his lip twitched upwards, betraying him. Despite his best efforts he huffed a laugh. It was barely a breath compared to Neytiri's vibrant laughter and Lo'ak's jubilant cheer, but by his standards it was loud indeed. It must have caught on because the next moment the boy was snickering too, wincing a little when the movement made the scratches on his back twinge.

The boy smiled sheepishly. "I'm, ah- I'm sorry about that. I wouldn't do it now. If I were in the same position I mean."

Tsu'tey shook his head, amused. "No. It is good you defended yourself. There are too many dangers in the jungle for us to not be on guard."

By the time Mo'at returned to check the boy’s injuries the boy had relaxed enough to finish eating the bowl of larvae. He made a face whenever he ate one but by the end it was more of a joke than because of any genuine distaste. Once Tsu'tey managed to break through his cautious shell the boy turned into a bubbling fountain of questions and Tsu'tey ended up spending a good hour patiently answering them as best he could, but even he found himself coming up short once or twice at some of the boy's more complex queries.

When it was time for him to leave the boy's eyes tracked him across the room. Tsu'tey paused by the door, looking back. He glanced at Mo'at. "Could I visit again tomorrow?"

From where he lay, Mo'at checking his wounds, the boy smiled hesitantly, relieved at the prospect of further company. Mo'at poked him sternly. "Lie still."

The boy did, and Mo'at looked up, meeting Tsu'tey's eyes. "If he is well rested," she said, giving the boy a stern look. "I do not see why not."

Tsu'tey nodded sharply and pulled the vines back with a brush of his fingers, leaving without another word.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the creature directory:  
> Pa'li - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Direhorse


	4. The Slow March

The vines slid closed behind Tsu'tey, leaving him alone with the strange woman once more. He shifted slightly as she prodded at his leg, quickly stilling again when she turned her eyes on him sternly. She didn't say anything, returning to attending to his leg, and the silence stretched on.

After a couple of minutes he couldn't stand it any more. "Tsu'tey said you were a..." He struggled  with the word. "Tsahik?"

She nodded, the movement sending the long strings of beads in her complex headdress clinking together faintly, like wind chimes in a light breeze. It hung down on each side of her face, connection at her collarbones, holding what looked to be a small knife. "That is correct."

He bit lis lip, still confused but too awkward to ask more. She'd taken care of him the last couple of days, been caring and considerate - if not overly friendly. Stern, but that seemed to be something of a theme among these people - and had given him no reason to be wary of her. Still, he couldn't help but be a little intimidated.

Thankfully she didn't wait for him to fill the silence, continuing all on her own. "I heal, I advise, but above all I hear the will of Eywa and share her teachings with the clan."

"Eywa?" It wasn't the first time he'd heard the name. Tsu'tey had mentioned it once or twice, but he'd never explained it in any detail and he, occupied by so many other questions, had never thought to ask more. "Who is she?"

"Much was taken from you when you lost your memory." She said, and there was a deep sadness to her voice that left him feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Eywa is the mother - the Goddess. She is the one who gives life, and it is to she that it returns when it has run its course."

He opened his mouth to ask another question but she held up a hand, silencing him. "Do not worry yourself. It will return to you in time."

"And if it doesn't?" He asked urgently. People kept saying things, making vague promises he'd get better, but none of them had said anything about what would happen in the very real possibility that his memory didn't return. Because it had shown no signs of coming back so far - he was just as lost as that first day in the forest!

"Then you will learn again." She said, and the certainly in her voice was absolute. "The Na'vi never turn away from one who is willing to learn, even in a situation as strange as yours."

He was left dumbstruck and settled down to think about it, fiery temper going out as surely as if someone had dumped a bucket of water on it. She took his silence in stride, returning her attention to bandaging his leg as if the whole encounter hadn't happened. He watched her silently from the corner of his eye, but her composure never slipped.

"How long will it take to heal?" He asked quietly, half hoping she wouldn't hear him. There was something intense about her gaze that left him fidgeting, unable to meet her eyes.

"Rest and it will heal quickly." She promised. "In a few weeks you may be able to walk again. With help." She added when his eyes widened hopefully. "But it will take months for a full recovery."

He clenched his fists. He didn't have moths. People were waiting for him. He needed to-

He needed to what?

Burying his face in the bed mat, he groaned, pressing his forehead hard into the mat - until he could feel the pattern of the threads impressed into his skin. "Why can't I remember?"

A hand threaded through his hair and he tensed, not sure what to expect, but she only brushed her fingers back and forth through his hair tenderly.

"You are going through a trail, and it is a difficult one. Do not fear it. You are one of the people, and the clan will take care of you. In time you will heal and Eywa may eventually return your memories to you."

"And after that?" He mumbled hopelessly.

"We wait for the return of the messengers. Your clan might still return to claim you."

He slumped down, defeated. He knew with a certainly he couldn't explain that none of the clans would claim, but if asked he doubted he would be able to produce a single solid reason why. He didn't say any of this, letting himself embrace for a short time the impossible chance that he did belong to one of the clans and that prospect that things maybe were really as simple as they seemed.  

It was an illusion, but a comforting one and he clung to it while he could.

"I will let you rest."She said, stroking his hair one last time before standing. "If you are to have guests tomorrow you must sleep and recover."

But she didn't head for the door immediately, instead gathering up a bowl from one of the shelves. Inside was a long piece of coiled twine, woven through with leaves and flowers, each one still intact. She unwound it delicately, taking the looped end and attaching them to a small root on the ceiling, helpfully serving as a hook. That done, she reached into a small pouch on her belt, retrieving a pair of smooth stone and, sticking them together, produced a small spark.

It fizzled out before it could touch the coil, but the next one struck true, catching the bottom end of it and smouldering away. As the embers ate up the first few leaves and flower it released a pale smoke that drifted through the air sluggishly.

"This will help you sleep." She said. The thread continued to smoulder, the bottom smoking away as the ember slowly ate their way higher. Wisps of fragrant smoke drifted away from it, carried on unknown currents, coiling through the air like dancing snakes.

The longer he watched, the more hypnotic they became, the fragrant smell filling his head until all the pains and worries of the day seemed like nothing but a distant dream. He didn't know when he closed his eyes, only that he soon slept.

* * *

Tsu'tey returned late the next day. He'd been awake for hours by then, with Mo'at and the healers already checking him over once that morning - Mo'at leaving him with a stern warning not to strain himself.

A few of the other healers lingered after she had gone, pottering around the place grinding up herbs and gathering up old bandages to be washed. They left him alone for the most part, bring him water when he asked but otherwise leaving him in peace. They must have been under orders not to disturb, he realized, because more than one glanced at him, obviously curious, but none approached.

It was a relief in a way not to have people constantly fawning over him, but after a while he almost wished they would come talk to him. The healing chambers, while overflowing with curiosities and intriguing new sights, grew dull after the tenth hour staring at its walls. he could only sleep so much before feeling like he was going to get a splitting headache if he tried to nap away even another hour.

When the vines pulled aside and Tsu'tey finally appeared he would have leapt from his bed if he could have. Instead he settled for smiling and waving Tsu'tey over eagerly, impatient for a distraction.

Tsu'tey approached. He didn't smile exactly but there was a warmth to his eyes that gave him away. He'd spent most of yesterday thinking Tsu'tey was just putting up with him, only to slowly realize that that was just the way Tsu'tey was. His smiles might be smaller than everyone else's, but they were still there.

Tsu'tey sat down beside him. He waved him off when he offered to go get him some water, diving straight back into where they'd left off yesterday. Being stuck in the healing chambers with nothing to do had left him with plenty of time to think over everything Tsu'tey had told him yesterday, and it had left him with another hundred questions buzzing around his head and not one to answer them, since all the healers had been keeping their distance.

"It's called a Palulukan." Tsu'tey explained. He said the name with a sort of reverent fear that he could empathize with entirely. The creature - the Palulukan, he corrected himself - had been immense, and utterly lethal in a way few creatures managed to achieve.

"To escape it was a great feat indeed." Tsu'tey continued. He glanced at his leg, well able to believe it. It's claws had torn through him like so much wet paper, and he didn't doubt that if he'd been even a minute slower he would certainly be dead.

He shrugged, winching regretfully when the movement sent the scratches across his shoulders biting painfully. "It was more luck than anything."

Tsu'tey didn't say anything, but he could tell he didn't believe him. Quickly looking to change the subject, he continued. "There were these monkey things too."

"Mo'anki?" Tsu'tey said, sounding out the word. "I do not know such a creature. What is a mo'anki?"

He frowned. "Um- It's like an animal that lives in the trees. It swings around, eating fruit and things."

"A syaksyuk?" Tsu'tey offered. "They are blue, with four arms? Only two eyes?"

He nodded, a little amused. Only two eyes. Didn't most thing have only two eyes? But then, he thought back to the Palulukan, and the herd of 'angtsik, even that little fan lizard he'd seen. All of those had more than two eyes, so maybe Tsu'tey wasn't too far off the mark after all.

Another oddity to think about.

"It was weird, though. They... took care of me, I guess. Brought me food." Everything Tsu'tey had said in the last two days hadn't explained that, and he still found himself baffled by the whole event.

"Ah, that is not so much of a surprise." Tsu'tey said. "The clan is on good terms with the nearby troupes. Mo'at's unil'ioang is a syaksyuk. She had bonded with them, and so the troupes share her will. They only did as she would have wanted them to do."

"Bond?" He asked curiously.

Tsu'tey sat up straighter. "You do not know."

He sent Tsu'tey an impatient look, making a self-explanatory gesture at his head. "I can't remember, okay?"

"Forgive me." Tsu'tey said, looking genuinely regretful. He waved him off, not holding a grudge.

"So what's the bond?"

Tsu'tey leaned in, eyes lighting up as he went to explain. The conversation created more questions than it answered, and when Mo'at returned they were still at it, fascinated. Eventually she was forced to shoo Tsu'tey away or risk disturbing the check up completely.

* * *

Every day Tsu'tey continued to visit him in the healing chambers, and while his visits passed quickly in a flurry of never-ending questions or friendly debate, the hours in between seemed to stretch on eternally.

The scratched on his back had mostly healed up by now and bruises on his side from his encounter with the 'angtsik faded to a motley yellow, but his leg remained agonisingly slow to heal. Even when he could finally sit up he could barely managed to limp a couple of paces before it gave out beneath him and the healers descended, scolding him for getting up so early into his healing.

Out of sheer desperation to escape the boredom, he struck up an acquaintance with some of the healers, coaxing them into ignoring their orders not to disturb him so that eventually even the most stubborn among them would chat to him idly as they went about their tasks, sharing news from the hometree, of the hunt, even random gossip from their sister's friend's cousin, and whatever else helped the endless hours pass more quickly.

Tsu'tey's visits were still the highlight of his day. While the healers provided surprisingly good company, they always had something else to do and often couldn't spare the time to talk to him as much as he'd want. Tsu'tey on the other hand seemed to have no compunction against spending the whole afternoon sitting with him, telling him this and that - from the mundane to things he could barely imagine were even possible.

"What do you do all day then, when you're not here?" He asked one day, when Tsu'tey arrived later than usual.

"I train and I work to help the clan." Tsu'tey replied.

"Train for what?" He asked, curious.

"To be a warrior. Mo'at and Eytukan have decreed that I may take part in the next Unaltiron, and if that goes well, the Iknimaya. Until then I must train even harder, so when the time comes I can prove myself to the warriors and be accepted as one of them in turn."

He was a little taken aback. "You want to be a soldier." He'd couldn't imagine anyone voluntarily signing up for that, especially when the Omaticaya were at peace and had been for so long. "But why?"

"A warrior." Tsu'tey corrected. "It is a great honor to serve the clan as a warrior, to protect and guard it's people from harm."

"Who would you fight?"

"It is true that in times of peace, warriors are often no different than hunters, but should something happen they are the first to step forward - to do what has to be done for the protection of the clan. Mostly that involves driving of predators that come too close to the hometree, but..." Tsu'tey was troubled by the idea, his frown growing ever deeper.

"But what?" He prompted.

"It is nothing, a possibility that may never come to pass. Still, it is better to be prepared."

He couldn't get anything more out of Tsu'tey no matter his wheedling, and eventually gave up, turning to easier topics of conversation. But look on Tsu'tey's face remained, making him uneasy. Tsu'tey was worried about something - the clan was worried about something - and he wasn't sure what.

"Alright then." He shrugged. "Tell me more about these floating mountains." He still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea. In his head all he could imagine was small pointy spires sitting on the top of clouds, floating about on the breeze and swaying to and fro. It hardly seemed real. "How big are they?"   

Tsu'tey nodded, and settled into to explain, calmly arguing his way through his many incredulous questions. The dark look on his face faded after a while, melting away beneath the barrage of his increasingly strange questions, and he felt a small flicker of satisfaction.

"But seriously, seriously - don't look at me like that - would they still float if you turned them upside down?"

Tsu'tey just stared at him, bewildered and more than a little amused. "Why would you turn them upside down, and how would you ever manage such a feat?"

"Fine, whatever. You said there were waterfalls right? Where does the water come from? Surely it must all run off after a while, and then there'd be no waterfall, but you said they were always there?"

"True rain rarely comes except during the monsoon season." Tsu'tey said, hazarding a reply.  "But the mists rise every morning from the jungle, fading by midday. The water has to go somewhere, so perhaps it collections on the mountains?"

"Maybe there are floating lakes." He said, sitting up. "Do you think there could be? The water could accumulate during the monsoon, the mists, whatever, and then remain, slowly draining off all year round!"

"I do not know if that is possible." Tsu'tey replied, skeptical. "Some of the mountains are very small."

"Then maybe they have small lakes." He said, just to be contrary.

"We will have to go look when you are healed." Tsu'tey said, smirking. "Just to end this debate once and for all."

"Yeah." He replied more mutedly. "Once I'm healed."

The idea of what what to come still troubled him to some extent. Without his memory he had no idea what to expect - no idea where he would go, what he would do once he had finished his stay with the Omaticaya. The restless feeling that something was waiting for him something important, had not abated, and it kept him up at night - searching hopelessly for any indication, any stray thought of what it might be.

None came, and over time he was slowly forced to admit that perhaps this was one mystery he would not be able to solve. The thought grated at him, leaving him all the more appreciative of Tsu'tey and the distraction he provided.

Tsu'tey waited for him a moment, looking concerned but trying to hide it, before resuming the conversation once more. He was gradually becoming used to these mood swings of his, and had learned the best way to deal with them was to ignore them and keep going. He would tell him if he really wanted to be alone, and until then Tsu'tey would provide the best distraction he could, keeping his mind on happier things.

Sometimes Tsu'tey couldn't help but wonder, though. Did the boy have a family waiting for him, siblings and friends and rowdy cousins? Was that why he sometimes looked so sad. But he never asked. No answers would be forth coming, and he didn't want to trouble the boy more than he already was.

* * *

Two weeks in and he was finally allowed his first glimpse of the world outside the healing chambers. Tsu'tey was not allowed to take him far as per Mo'at's orders, but the walkway just outside the healing chambers she allowed. It took the help of Tsu'tey and another of the healers, Ji'nai, both of them carrying him more than supporting him, but he made it nonetheless.

He was panting when they set him down, out of breath and sweating, but it was more the pain than anything. When he had winced the first time, stumbling, they had almost turned around, barely halfway to the door, but he hadn't allowed it, glaring them into submission with the promise that if they didn't help him he would make the trip himself.

"Alone. Without help." He glowered. Ji'nai shot him a reproachful look, but gave in, and Tsu'tey, already becoming well accustomed to his stubbornness didn't try and argue.

He leaned against the wall, head tilting back and gritting his teeth through the pain. His leg throbbed angrily, throwing out flares of pain like a fire, burned down to embers, that had just had a bucket of gasoline chucked on it. It burned with his pulse, each beat of his heart seeming to strike a hammer to the flames making them soar higher. Perhaps Ji'nai was right, perhaps it had been too much, but he didn't give a damn.

If he had stayed in the healing chambers one minute longer he would have gone insane.

Ji'nai had run off to get him something to ease the pain, but Tsu'tey remained beside him, watching him struggle to his breathing even. He could see he didn't approve, but he didn't comment, respecting his wishes.

"Why- Why is healing so slow?" He asked between the breaths. "I feel like I've already been here an eternity and I've barely healed."

"Perhaps the medicine are better where you come from," Tsu'tey said, "but no matter where you were such a serious injury would require a slow recovery."

He shook his head. He knew he'd been injured before - his arm? He thinks - something serious anyway, and yet that had barely taken a day to heal. One night. Maybe? He thinks? The more he thought about it, the less clear the details became.

"Maybe you're right." He must have been imagining it. No serious wound could be healed over night. He might have lost his memory but he wasn't stupid - such a thing was impossible.

He was thankful when Ji'nai returned, producing a bowl of foul smelling liquid for him to drink. It wasn't the first time he'd sampled this particular delicacy, and while it tasted absolutely awful it had an undeniable effect on the pain - numbing his leg almost completely. He gulped it down eagerly, trying not to breath through his nose as he did.

Ji'nai removed the bowl but lingered, continuing to fuss until he gave him a tired smile and assured him he was alright. In other conditions he might have snapped at him to go away, but he had brought this upon himself, both the walk and the fussing. No doubt Ji'nai would not do it if he had not encouraged them all to talk to him, fussing included.

With the pain in his leg already starting to recede, he turned to get a better look of the hometree.

It was a strange sight to say the least. Everywhere he looked wood grew in enormous proportions, making up every wall he saw. It was like being in the hollow trunk of an enormous tree - and in a sense that was exactly where he was. Except the closer he looked, the more he realised it wasn't just one tree, but half a dozen smaller ones all coiled together, winding around each other as they rose into the sky.

He couldn't see what the outside branches were doing, but it looked as if each level in the hometree was made up to its own branch growing inwards, spreading outwards into a patchy network that made up a level, leaving gaps through the floor sometimes meters across. And the structure wasn't just flat, with wide offshoots of the branches sometimes going up or down connecting different levels in a complex tangle.

From where he was sitting he could just see one such gap, and when he peered down he was surprised to find himself a lot higher up than he had anticipated. There had to be at least half a dozen other levels below them, each one joined by a spiral of branches that grew straight up through the center of the hometree, piercing through each level and continuing upwards.

A double helix he realized, and too perfectly formed to have been grown naturally. He turned to Tsu'tey. "How was it made?"

Tsu'tey smiled a little, Ji'nai sending him an openly pleased look, grinning, both flattered by his obvious awe at the hometree. "The clan has lived here since the hometree was first planted. Our ancestors gathered the seeds, arranged them, and when they started to grow they shaped them. Every generation since has continued their work for a thousand years - creating the home of the Omaticaya."

He shuddered, looking back at the hometree with an entirely new light in his eyes. It was different seeing it and knowing that every branch, every coincidentally well placed coil was in fact the product of centuries of work.

"Thats- " He wanted to say something, some praise, some admiration, but words failed him. The scale of it, of all the work that had gone into it, was immense, beyond what he could imagine.

Tsu'tey smiled, and this time it wasn't a half-smile shy and hidden beneath layers of duty and stenness and the image of what a warrior should be. It was open, radiant.

Beautiful.

He turned to him, stumbling over the words in the haste to get them out. "Tell me more."

And Tsu'tey did.

* * *

His visits outside the healing chamber continued to grow ever longer over the next two weeks. One of the healers always accompanied them, but he found he minded their company less and less. He'd come to know quite a few of them well over the last couple of weeks, and he would almost count them as friends.

Ji'nai wasn't always able to come with them, but when he did it was with obvious pleasure. His endless fascination with everything seemed to amuse them, his questions about the most basic, sometimes even silly things, more than once driving them to laughter.

Still, he thought, perhaps that it was simple that, seeing each thing for the first time, even the most mundane aspects of their lives were a source of fascination and awe. His appreciation of their culture and his eagerness to learn were flattering, as was the obvious awe he showed the works of their people - things so subtle, or sometimes so immense, that they often didn't get remarked on at all.

They stayed mostly on that one level, but even from there there was a dozen different things so see. Through the gaps in the level he could see down into the hometree, all the way down into the ground cavern where the branches gave way, leaving a huge open space, and even up through the higher layers, where hammocks and other strange constructions were visible.

"That's where the clan sleeps." Tsu'tey had said when he'd asked.

"Everyone?" He asked. He'd only gotten a peek at them, but there hadn't been so many, but those he had seen had been large indeed.

Tsu'tey nodded. "They go up for several levels, tied between the branches."

"You have one too then?" He said.

"Families sleep together." Tsu'tey corrected. "It is a way of reaffirming bonds. When we sleep we share the same space, the same air, and in doing so we become closer. Children sleep with their parents until they become  adult members of the clan, and when they mate they build a one for their new family, with the help of their old."

"Isn't it dangerous, sleeping over a drop like that?" Some of the hammocks have hung directly over a gap in the level. If anyone fell of in their sleep they could plummet through the hometree, perhaps all the way to the ground cavern if they didn't meet their fate sooner on one of the lower branches.

"Not really." Tsu'tey said. "If the hammock is good it will protect you from falling. That is why all the family helps make it - partly to share their spirits together, joining two families as one, but also so that their parents can teach them, as their parents taught them."

He didn't feel entirely reassured by that. He didn't have much of a fear of heights himself, but even he would have trouble getting to sleep over a fifty meter fall.

"I have never seen anyone fall off one." Tsu'tey added reassuringly.

That... didn't really help. He shook his head. "I believe you." Still, he glanced at the hammocks cautiously from then on. That idea would take some getting used to.

They'd been walking around for a while now and his leg was starting to act up again. He still wasn't able to walk by himself yet, but at least it no longer took Ji'nai and Tsu'tey's combined efforts to keep him upright. Ji'nai and the other healers continued to tag along even despite this,  waiting at the ready in case something happened and he needed to be rushed back to the healing chambers.

Even with Tsu'tey's help he was starting to wince with each step, and so they called it a day, heading back to the hometree, Ji'nai stepping in when he leg became too painful halfway back and almost collapsed beneath him.

He was always exhausted after their walks, but this time they had pushed a little further than usual and his leg was paying the price for it. They set him down gently on his bed mat, and he gladly accepted Ji'nai's offer to get some water.

He'd been receiving more visitors of late, outside Tsu'tey and the healers. Other clan members, growing more bold as they heard news of his continuing recover sometimes stopped by to give him their well wishes. He met them with as much friendliness as he could muster, quashing down the terrible sense of awkwardness when these strangers came to meet him.

But somehow it was less awful than he expected. Each one introduced themselves, some staying to chat for a while but it was always a meeting between strangers. None pretended to know him better than they did, none clamored for his attention or lingered longer than was comfortable.

He didn't know why he had expected them to, but all the same it was a relief.

Tsu'tey's father had even come and visited once. Ateyo, he'd introduced himself, and explained how it had been his patrol that had found him in the forest - or rather his patrol that Tsu'tey had been a part of when he spotted him.

His company was perhaps the easiest to deal with of all the visitors, if the most strange. When he had nothing to say he was silent, more than happy to just listen to he and Tsu'tey talk, and when he did have something to say he didn't beat about the bush, speaking bluntly and honestly.

A little awkward maybe, but he liked him. Ateyo would never lie, would never pretend to feel something when he didn't, and he couldn't help but admire him for it. It didn't help that Ateyo was a wealth of knowledge about the clan, even more so than Tsu'tey for all his years of experience. No doubt he could have gotten the same information from any adult of the clan, but  Ateyo was an easy source, and one with whom he already had some connection through Tsu'tey.

"I think it will be a good thing when the messengers return," Tsu'tey said at one point. Usually he kept well clear of the issues of his memory and the other clans, but for once he broached the subject. "Perhaps then we will learn your name. I do not think it is good to go around referring to you as 'the boy'."

That had been something of a source of annoyance lately. It wasn't so much a problem in one on one conversations, but it get somewhat tiresome to be constantly referred to as 'you, child' all the time, but he didn't have the heart to tell Tsu'tey that the return of the messengers likely wouldn't be any help on that front.

The day was drawing ever closer, and with it his worries grew larger. Tsu'tey had said the closest clan was six days ride away, two by flight, which meant that the messengers could be returning anyday now. No doubt the Omaticaya would let him stay until he was healed, but what about after?

He'd had a long time to think about it, but he still didn't have much of an idea of what he could do. Now that he knew a bit more about the jungle he'd probably manage to survive, so maybe he could visit a couple of the clans? See if they knew anything more? In any case it would give him something to do.

Still, it didn't overcome the fact that until his memory returned he was basically stuck. He didn't know where he should be going, what he should be doing, and from what Mo'at had said it could be months, years, before his memory returned, if it ever did.  

Tsu'tey said something and it broke through his thoughts. He turned to answer.

In anycase, the messengers hadn't returned just yet. He still had time before he had to come to a decision.   



	5. The Hometree

The thing that got to him was the stares. 

He knew they meant well, Tsu'tey had explained as much after the first time he asked, but he couldn't help it. They... unnerved him, made him uneasy, uncomfortable. He felt watched constantly, and sometimes it grew so much that he almost wished he'd never left the healing chambers in the first place. 

"All lives are precious to the Na'vi," Tsu'tey had said. "The lives of children even moreso. Finding you in such a condition so far from your clan was very distressing. There are a lot of people happy as your safe recovery."

"I know." He said, and he did, Tsu'tey must have told him a dozen times by now. "But I wish they wouldn't stare."

"It is the first time many of them have seen you. They are just curious."

And yeah, that was fair enough. Tsu'tey and Ji'nai, even Mo'at had told him enough to know that he was something of an unprecedented situation amongst the clan. He should have known he would draw attention as his explorations lead him into busier parts of the hometree. But still... "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, it does not." Tsu'tey agreed. "Do not worry. Soon enough they will grow used to the sight of you and the stares will fade."

With his leg healing slowly but surely, his trips through the hometree with Tsu'tey had grown even longer. The healers no longer felt the need to attend, which was a shame, Ji'nai had admitted mischievously, because he had quite enjoyed their walks together. 

"But your wound is healing, and there is other work to be done. I would not deprive someone of help simply because I wish to walk around a little longer." He finished, turning down their invitation to come along when they left for their latest walk. "But be sure not to strain yourself. It may be easier to walk, but you still have a ways to go left before you are fully healed."

He didn't doubt that. He could now stagger a few steps on his own without having to lean on a wall for support, but anything more than that was still painful without help. He might no longer require the help of two people, but he still had to learn heavily on Tsu'tey just to limp along slowly. 

Today he was hoping to finally make it to the ground cavern. Their walks had lead them around a few of the other levels as he regained his strength, but they had never managed to get to the base of the hometree before - nor had they tried, with Mo'at warnings not to strain himself always echoing in his ears. While he was impatient to see more, he reigned himself back with the firm reminder that if he pushed too hard his leg might get worse, and then even these small walks would be too difficult. 

The ground cavern was more than half a dozen levels down - eight to be precise, he had counted - and to be honest he wasn't entirely sure he could make it. Still, he wanted to try and he had all day to this, he had plenty of time to take breaks if he needed to. 

"You said you would show me more of the hometree today." He reminded him, though he was quite certain Tsu'tey remembered it well enough on his own. But he looked hesitant, and he knew that Mo'at's warnings must have gotten to him too.  

Tsu'tey looked at him, considering, not quite frowning but almost. "Mo'at did say I should bring you lunch."

"Then bring me to lunch instead.I can handle the walk." He said. Tsu'tey shot him an annoyed look. 

"Do not think I do not see what you are doing." Then he smirked, wicked as anything. "Though I suppose if it is too much I could always ask for help. I'm sure people would be happy to help carry you back up to the healing chambers."

"No thanks, I'll manage." He protested. He imagined being carried up the central spiral, swung over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, people gathering to stare as he went by, and he couldn't help the mortified flush that came to his face at the very thought. "I think I'd rather sleep down there than be carried back up." 

"Then you must be sure not to strain yourself, yes?" Tsu'tey said innocently, if the blank expression he plastered on his face to hide his satisfaction could at all be called innocent. He doubted it. 

The central spiral was steep, but no so much as to be truly difficult. He would probably have more trouble on the way up than the way down, he knew, but he left that problem for his future self. Tsu'tey helped him along, sticking by his side like a limpet, his arm over his shoulder, acting like crutch to keep the weight off his injured leg. 

He'd once asked why they didn't just give him a crutch, but the very idea of it seemed to baffle them. "Why would we cut up some wood when there are people there and willing to help?" Mo'at had asked when he suggested it. The idea had left her thoughtful, and finally she said "Though perhaps it would be useful for more permanent injuries. The people have their pride after all."

He almost offered to make one for himself, if brought the materials, but in the end thought the better of it. He was clumsy enough as it is and Tsu'tey provided an important safety net between him and the massive drop down through the hometree. He didn't want to see what would happen if he tried stumbling around alone when some of the branches were so narrow, and some of the gaps in the level so large. 

The trip down to the ground cavern proved difficult indeed and he wasn't ashamed to have to ask for so many breaks. The healers had quickly drummed any resistance to ask for help out of him, many of them looking actually upset when he tried to shoulder through things alone rather than ask for help. That, more than any scolding broken the spirit of his stubborn resistance. One man had even looked close to tears when he'd tried walking alone, pushing so hard his legs started to bleed again rather than ask for help.

Tsu'tey didn't say anything about the breaks, which made it easier. Instead he filled the time they spent waiting for the weakness in his leg to ebb away talking, pointing out the different features of the hometree as they went.

He didn't know how long it took them to reach the bottom but it was a great relief when they did, and he was quick so sit down on one of the large twisting roots of the hometree that swam in and out of the dirt of the ground chamber like a great serpent. The area was clear for the most part, and those roots allowed to surface always conveniently place to act as seats or paths up to some of the smaller branches that hugged the sides of the outer wall, providing ledges overlooking the ground caven. 

He glanced at his leg, checking to make sure it was alright. Mo'at had long since stopped putting bandages on the wound, stating that the air would do it some good now that it was no longer gaping open. It had started to form a nasty scar now that ran down all the way from the back of his knee and curled around his ankle in a set of deep parallel stripes. The scar was thick and ugly, a much paler blue to the rest of his skin, making it stand out all the more.  

Most of the time he tried his best to ignore it. The pain itself was mostly gone now, leaving behind a deep weakness in the healing muscles that Mo'at assured him would go away with time and practice. When he took that as advice to walk even more - because, practice ­­- she had shot him down. "Rest and practice. Walking is good, but not so much that you make the wound worse. Remember that, child, you seem the type to forget."

Sheepishly he'd nodded along, but that hadn't stopped her from ordering Tsu'tey to keep a firm eye on him and knock any stupid ideas out of his head. Tsu'tey, the traitor, had simply nodded along. "It will be done, Tsahik." 

When he finally looked up he resisted the urge to sigh. Even more people were staring at him than usual, though he supposed it couldn't be helped considering this was one of the busiest areas of the hometree. He smiled awkwardly at them, not feeling it inside, and the stares abated a little, a few of his audience smiling back, some even waving. None took it as an invitation to come over and introduce themselves, for which he was unspeakably glad. He didn't think he could have handled it.  

But for all their staring the Omaticaya were nothing if not hospitable. Food was thrust into his hands the moment it was ascertained he was staying, its giver disappearing again before he could do more than breath a thank you. Tsu'tey watched with quiet amusement as he struggled to spot them them through the crowd, still hoping to thank them. He gave up on that soon enough, taking a bite out of the strange flat fruit he'd been given. Its taste was rather plain, nothing like some of the other fruit he'd tried, and it had a strangely gritty texture to it, but it was filling.

They were seated near the back of the gathering, well out of the way of the main part of the ground, gathered around the bonfires. Groups of Na'vi sat in on the floor in rings around each fire, talking and laughing as they cooked. All food was shared, brought forth by every member of the group to be cooked and shared around to whoever wanted some with no special regard to whoever had supplied it. 

The noise of it all was incredible. There had to be more than a hundred people in the ground cavern, with still room for more. All of them were talking or laugh, with some Na'vi were even singing beneath their breath as they passed around bowls from person to person, skewers of insects handed back through the group and fresh ingredients passed forward to replace them on the fire.

He glanced at Tsu'tey out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't expect there to be so many people."

Tsu'tey bit into his own fruit, giving a grateful nod to the woman who'd handed it to him. She didn't see it,  already flitting away with the platter of fruit in hand, dropping fruit into waiting hands at every group she passed. "Perhaps, though it is not as busy as the evening meal. If they can people eat the morning meal with family and friends, though most hunters and warriors are already gone before it starts. It is the evening meal that truly gets busy - there all of the clan eats together."

"And lunch?" At Tsu'tey's confused look he elaborated. "Eating in the middle of the day?"

"That is done alone. If you are hungry you gather some fruit, perhaps cook some meat, but anything you make you must supply yourself." Tsu'tey said. He nodded. That was sensible enough. 

As the meal stretched on people begun to break away, disappearing back into the heights of the hometree or out to start the day's work. Not far from them a group of weavers set to work, their voices carrying in song from where they clambered up the enormous loom that stretched to the roof of the ground cavern. The frame was immense, housing a great tapestry in the making, threads hanging unwoven from the bottom edge in a veritable curtain of threads.

"What is that?" He asked. It's function was obvious enough, but he couldn't help but wonder how anybody would be able to use a loom that large. It looked like it was made for giants. 

"That is mas'kit nivi sa'nok, the mother loom. It is the pride of the Omaticaya, and the main source of trade with the other clans. The Omaticaya is a clan of great weavers - greater than any other clan - and in return for our weaving they give us things in return, pottery or medicines we cannot find here."

He sounded out the name, stumbling over it. He tried again. Mas'kit, loom. Sa'nok, mother. It seemed simple enough if he broke it down.  

His curiosity about how it was used was soon answered. As they watched one woman clambered nimbly up the frame, total unconcerned by the height or her precariousness of her position as she took up the threads, beginning to weave once more. She looked tiny against it, fragile at such a height, and yet totally fearless. It was a surprise when she began to sing, her voice strong and clear, rising above the chatter of the crowd. " _ The rhythm of rain and sun... _ "

" _ Of night and day... _ " A man continued, taking up her song as he climbed to join her. More people joined in, a woman right beside him breaking out into a joyful verse, voice warbling like a songbird. When she saw him staring she grinned, tilting her head in greeting, before continuing. " _ The rhythm of the years... _ "

He listened to them sing, watching the painstaking work that went into every single inch of the weave. The strands were folded and folded again, looped around each other and back around themselves in a sequence so complicated it took ten minutes to complete a single link. It was amazing - the time and effort that went into a single link, almost unnoticeable in the grand scheme of the tapestry, yet still lavished with such dedicated attention. And there were meter of the thing already made. Just imagining all the time it must haven taken to make it made his head spin.

" _ And the beat of the hearts, the hearts of the people, fills me _ ." They smiled as they sang, every now and then their voices rising, all joining together in a symphony that could be heard all throughout the hometree. " _ Fills me! I weave the rhythm in yellow and blue- _ "

" _ \- the rhythm of the years _ !" Someone piped up from right behind him and he startled, turning. A girl, perhaps a year younger than him, stood behind him, a cheeky grin on her face.

Tsu'tey inclined his head. "Neytiri."

She dropped down beside between them, forcing Tsu'tey to shuffle aside. Tsu'tey sent her disgruntled look but she paid him no mind. Above them the weavers continuing on with their song unperturbed, fingers dancing through the threads of the tapestry. "The spiral of the lives..."

"You've been absent recently Tsu'tey." She said, sounding almost scolding. Tsu'tey scowled, but the fond look in his eyes gave him away away.

"You could have found me easily enough." He replied blandly.

Huffing, she turned away from Tsu'tey completely. Tsu'tey stared after her, settling back in resigned silence that spoke of long practice. Clearly he was used to this treatment. She touched her forehead and nodded in what he was coming to understand was the customary greeting of all Na'vi. "I see you."

"I see you." He said and returned a passable copy of the gesture. The movements felt foreign to him, leaving him clumsy but he'd seen it done enough times to do an approximation. "It's nice to meet you. I'm-" He stopped, left hanging with nothing to say after that. "Um."

"Do not worry yourself," She said giving him a reassuring smile "Mother has told me all about you."

"Your mother?" He'd known he was something of an oddity, but still. The thought of every single person in the clan knowing more about him than he did was more than a little disturbing.

"Mo'at." Neytiri said, and, oh, that made sense. "Eytukan is my father. Sylwanin - my sister - is to be Tsahik after my mother." She smiled, warm and friendly and utterly without reservation. "Mother says you are recovering quickly."

She said it with a sort of expectant quality and he was left to nod hesitantly. "She said I should be able to walk more easily in a few more weeks." He clung to the thought. He doesn't like being so limited, utterly dependent on other people for things even as small as walking to the bathroom. Yet even the thought of being mobile again does little to dispel the cloud of worry and uncertainty that had been lingering around him the last few weeks. 

Everyone was still convinced that he was probably from one of the nearby tribes, and as they days passed the return of the messengers grew ever more imminent. It was an unhappy reminder that his time with the Omaticaya was slowly counting down, and yet, the longer he stayed the less he wanted to go. He was making friends here, finally starting to wrap his head around things. He didn't want to leave.

But he had to. With every day that passed the things he needed to do grew more urgent and yet- And yet a traitorous part of his mind had started to whisper... maybe it wasn't that important after all. He was a kid, not even old enough to have gone through Unaltiron or Iknimaya. Surely whatever was waiting for him couldn't be that important.

There was no guarantee his memory would come back anyway, so why should he worry about it now?

But this left him with another struggle. The Omaticaya might not want him to stay. He was untrained, ignorant. He couldn't fight, couldn't hunt, couldn't even weave. In the end, if he couldn't bring anything to the clan, what was he except just another mouth to feed?

The conversation had continued without him and he returned to it to find Neytiri heckling Tsu'tey, trying to tease him into promising to join her in training next time.  

"You shall have to join us as well." Neytiri added brightly. He nodded, still a little confused, but not daring to refuse. She turned back to Tsu'tey, sending him a knowing look, clearly fishing for information. "I hear there's been talk of you joining the next Unaltiron."

Tsu'tey didn't rise to the bait, inclining his head a little. "It has been mentioned."

"It is almost time for the tiolang to return." Neytiri continued, hinting at something that went right above his head. She smirked. "Perhaps they'll invite you to join the hunt."

Tsu'tey sat up, visibly proud despite his attempts to hide it. Neytiri turned to him and explained. "Talioang are difficult to hunt - it takes skill to bring one down. Should he manage to fell one they'll be sure to consider him ready for Unaltiron. And then... Iknimaya awaits."

"The journey to bond my Ikran, I have told you about it." Tsu'tey added, noticing his puzzlement. His eyes widened a little, impressed. "Ikran. The-" He pointed vaguely upwards. Tsu'tey had told him about them and more than once he'd heard their cries in the distance, usually at night when the everyday bustle and noise of the clan quieted, but he'd never seen one up close. He didn't have to pretend the awe in his voice. "That's amazing."

Tsu'tey nodded. There was a pleased look on his face, head held high and proud. Neytiri whacked him lightly on the shoulder, amused. "You'll head will swell." She turned to him, grinning conspiratorially. "How you must suffer with only Tsu'tey to keep you company. He is more unfriendly than a zize. You must come see when you are healed, I will introduce you to proper company."

Biting his lip, he nodded. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to go around meeting half the clan but he had the feeling Neytiri was the sort to rope people into things whether they wanted to come or not. Neytiri was irrefutable, say no and she'd just roll right over you, arguing back and forth until you ended up agreeing and thinking it was your idea in the first place.

Before he had a chance to say something one way or another raised voices caught from outside the hometree caught their attention. As one they turned to look, the singing of the wavers trailing off as a group of Na'vi stormed through the east entrance.  

Neytiri and Tsu'tey stood, going closer to listen. Tsu'tey offered him a hand, helping him limp along beside them to joining the rest of the crowd that gathered to watch the encounter.

The group stopped before the main bonfire where Eytukan and Mo'at were seated. Eytukan stepped forward to meet them calmly. A warrior at the head of the group, a woman with a long braid and a line of puckered scars down her side strode forwards. They weren't her only only scars, he noticed as she passed and they gave her a distinctly fierce appearance, as if the stormy look on her face wasn't enough.

"They do it again." She snarled, hands gripping her bow so hard her knuckles went pale. She was practically hissing, her tail lashing violently behind her. "Tearing the ground for their rocks, burning the trees. They kill for nothing and leave the corpses to rot. Wasteful.  _ Ungrateful _ ." She spat the word like it's a curse, and to the Na'vi it might as well be. "They have no respect for life. No respect for the creatures they kill."

Murmurs broke out among the crowd, more than one person raising their voice in agreement. Beside him Tsu'tey scowled, deep and disapproving. A glance at Neytiri told a different story. She was frowning too, but even he can tell that it was more concerned and disappointed than angry.

Eytukan and the warriors continued talking, his voice low and calm, carrying over the whispers of the crowd. "Keep watching them." He ordered, expression grave, his eyes hard. "But do not attack. We will speak with them, warn them of their actions."

"They will not stop, Eytukan." The woman hissed. She turned to the crowd, all righteousness and rage. "Even as we watch they slaughter our wild brothers, burn our home. We must act!"

"I will not have war if it can be avoided!" Eytukan said, voice rising. It was startling and more than one person stepped back. He had never seen Eytukan raise his voice and from the reactions of people around him it wasn't a common sight. When he next spoke his voice was quieter, though perhaps not as calm as it usually was. "Not if there are peaceful means still to be tried."

Mo'at's voice cut through the argument and everyone quieted to listen. She was like the calm in the eye of the storm, unfazed by the raised voices and building tensions. "They are willing to learn. It is not better to teach them our ways, let them pass on that knowledge to others? Let us not spill blood needlessly." 

Out of respect the warrior didn't argue further, bowing to their judgment, but the lead warrior wasn't appeased. She turned, storming off with the rest of her group following a moment. The heavy atmosphere lightened somewhat even after the exit of the warriors and the murmurs remained.

They watched the crowd disperse little by little. Finally he turned to Tsu'tey and asks, quietly, "What was that about?"

"The Skypeople," Tsu'ety said, saying the name with unusual distaste. He'd never seen Tsu'tey react to something that way. "Strange demons. They come from beyond Eywa, from the skies, bringing metal and their ma'shi'nees to dig the skin of the earth looking for rocks."

"And they're dangerous?" He asked. Tsu'tey shook his head, shrugging harshly. "Some say yes, others not. When they first appeared there was a great deal of fighting. Many died. Now they try to make peace."

"But you don't think they're safe." He concluded.

Tsu'tey scowled. It was not one of his playful scowls, the ones he used to hide his smile and keep up the illusion of severity. This one was harsh, ugly. He didn't like it. "They kill for no reason, pull up living trees and burn them for their shiny rocks and their row'ds."

He hummed consideringly but did not say more. Perhaps Tsu'tey and the others were right to be wary of them - their reasons seemed just enough - but the loss of his memory had left him cautious. He didn't want to go making half-cocked assumptions about things when he, quite literally, had no idea what was going on.

"Maybe I should ask Mo'at about it," he said. Tsu'tey looked at him and nodded curtly, letting the subject drop.

"Come." Tsu'tey says, "It is time you returned to the healing chambers. Mo'at will want to check your wounds soon and she said not to exert yourself."

He didn't argue,letting Tsu'tey lead him back. The journey up look even longer than the descent and by the time they made it back to the healing chambers he was shaking and exhausted. 

"It was too soon. I should not have taken you down." Tsu'tey said. "I apologize."

"Don't, I had fun." He said. All the same he was glad to lie down. Tsu'tey was right, the trip had been too much, but he would not have given it up for anything. Even the incident with the warriors had been an interesting, if unhappy, experience. 

"Then I will leave you to rest now." Tsu'tey said. Already one of the healers was wander over to ensure he was alright, and Tsu'tey released him into their care. "I'll return tomorrow."

* * *

"They are not from Eywa." Mo'at said the next day when he asked her. She checked his leg every morning, leaving her apprentices to see to him now that his condition was less urgent.

She dipped her fingers into the bowl by her side, returning them covered in a stinging paste which she spread gently on the edges of the cuts on his leg. Most of the redness had faded now and the medicines main purpose was to keep the wound clean and reduce the scarring. "They follow a different way. They do not see things the same way we do."

Neytiri nodded. She sat at his other side, keeping him company while Mo'at went through her daily check. Tsu'tey had yet to visit, tending to come in the afternoon rather than the morning. "But they are willing to learn." Neytiri said. "One of them, Grace, she has a school in the jungle. They teach us about them - their language and where they come from. She says they learn from us as much as we learn from them"

Mo'at released his leg. She motioned for him to lean forward and inspected the scratches along his back. "A small bit of scarring," she said, "but they are less serious. I'm afraid they will also scar - the spines of the ele'wll often have this effect."

Sitting back, she addressed him, and her turned to listen attentively. Out of the healing chambers she was less stern, even humorous - possessing a bone dry wit that served her well - but when it came to her patients and their treatment she had no time for games.  "The sickness in your leg has been defeated and it will heal more quickly now. Continue to keep your weight you leg it for the time being, we shall have to watch to see the sickness does not return."

She stood, motioning for Neytiri to follow. "We must let him rest now."

He waved them goodbye. the vines closed behind them and soon he was alone in the dim chambers. A bunch of rawp bulbs, grown in a small bowl filled with dirt to make something of a portable lamp sat beside his bed, but even poking at the bulbs and watching them flare up in bright white didn't entertain him as much as usual. 

He consider trying to fit in a nap, but honestly the thought of sleeping more held no appeal. He seemed to spend half his days sleeping even now that his leg was a lot better than it had been. Plus if he tried to sleep now he'd probably just end up lying there, stuck alone with thoughts that had already been hounding him too much recently. 

Mo'at had said to rest, so he wouldn't go far. For once none of the healers were around to help so he levered himself to his feet, slowly shuffling alone without trying to take his good foot off the ground. It was slow going but he made it to the entrance and pulling the vines aside, didn't have much further to go, setting himself down on the walkway outside the healing chambers. He didn't intend to go further, happy to just sit there. It might not be the most active pastime, but it was more interesting than sitting in the gloom of the healing chambers

From where he sat he could see down through the levels of the hometree and even parts of the level above. He could faintly hear the singing of the wavers, and when he looked down he could just see them working on the great loom. 

He didn't know how long he sat there, just watching the clan go about their business, only disturbed when someone wandered past and said hello, but it left him feeling strange. Almost... content. 

* * *

His next trips down to the ground cavern were less exciting. Mostly he just followed Tsu'tey and Neytiri around, more often than not ending him with him sitting somewhere, resting his leg and watching them go about their daily routines.

The first time Tsu'tey deemed him well enough to venture out of the hometree he tok him to a clearing on the southern side of the hometree. It wasn't until he passed through its immense roots and out into the open that he realized the full scale of the hometree. It seemed to fill the sky for hundreds of meters in each direction, twisting right up into the clouds.

He stopped, staring. Around the hometree was a clearing, the immense trees that made up the bulk of the forest giving the shadowed reach of the hometree a wide berth leaving ferns and smaller plants to grow in abundance. Here and there pa'li could be seen, their heads lowered to brilliant yellow flowers, long tongues poking out to drink the flower's nectar.

"Amazing." It took him a moment to realize it was him that had said it. But it was. It was beautiful. Tsu'tey lifted an eyebrow at him and he huffed, embarrassed. "What? It is."

Tsu'tey grinned, sunshine returning to his expression. It was good to seem him smile again. He'd been in an off mood since Eytukan's argument with the warriors, settling into long brooding silences when left to his own thoughts. "It is." Tsu'tey agreed.

Around their feet shuffled a group of fwampop, maybe five or six strong. He knelt down to have a look at one, folding his bad leg underneath him awkwardly and holding out his hand it to it. It sniffed at him, snout bristly and warm, it's four long antennae wriggling back and forth, and stomped its six little feet cheerfully. Standing, the top of its back reached his knee, but even then it was a bulky little creature. The armored plates on its back, while thick, provided only a minor protection against all of the jungles predators. Perhaps that was why so many were found around the hometree - Na'vi were one of the few creatures that didn't eat these. 

Their friendly nature probably helped. They were docile, always quick to run when startled, and provided a constant source of entertainment for the clan's younger children. They were perhaps the closest the Na'vi came to pets. From what Tsu'tey had told him even the pa'li were free to come and go as they wished, staying of their own will because of the affection they had towards the clan because of their bonds. 

Where one fwampop came the others soon crowded, all sniffing around him to see if he had a treat. Their noses tickled his skin as they puffed at his curiously, and he laughed, petting them at the corner of the jaw like Neytiri had showed him. 

He winced when one had the unfortunate chance to nose at his bad leg, and gladly accepted Tsu'tey hand, getting back to his feet. Seeing he had nothing for them, the fwampop wandered off again, looking for other more lucrative targets.

One cheeky individual stayed for a moment, staring up at him imploringly with two pairs of small eyes. he tried to shoo it away, but it wouldn't have any of it. Tsu'tey huffed, amused at his predicament, and have to his rescue, donating a small piece of his fruit to it. It quickly gobbled it up, the antenna branching off its jaw all wriggling happily, and then trotted off without a word. 

"You'll teach it bad habits." He complained, watching it go. It strutted among its fellows with an air of satisfaction, smug to have gotten a treat they had not. 

"It already has bad habits. They children spoil them." Tsu'tey said, taking another bite of his fruit. It was one of the tasteless flat ones. They may not taste like much but they were by far the most filling of all of them, making them a common choice for those peckish during the day.  

"I wonder if you could train them." He said, thinking allowed. Every thing he'd seen had indicated that the Na'vi didnt train animals. If they wanted something done they bonded with the animal, showing it their desire, and usually the animal was happy enough to comply. That was mostly with the pa'li though, and apart from them the only other creature they commonly bonded with were Ikran. 

"Do people ever bond with other animals, apart from pa'li and Ikran I mean?" He asked.

"Some." Tsu'tey said. "But not all can do it, and not with all animals. Unaltiron reveals one's unil'ioang, the form of one's spirit, and if they are lucky they will be able to bond with that animal. If they are not... I hear it like talking to someone in a different tongue. The minds may touch, but they cannot understand one another."

"And what if your unil'ioang is a pa'li, something the Na'vi can already bond with?"

"Then the connection is deepened. All Na'vi can understand the pa'li, just as they understand the Ikran, but none more so than those who truly share their spirit."

He looked at the herd of pa'li wandering the edges of the clearing and wondered what it would be like to have that connect, to share his mind with one of them. It was alien, a little scary, but also intriguing. Tsu'tey said something, motioning in another direction, and he nodded, turning to follow him. He glanced back at the herd one last time. Perhaps another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creature directory:  
> Zize (orange wasp) - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Hellfire_Wasp


	6. The Messengers

One by one the messengers slowly returned. 

The first arrived only days later, sending up cheers as she was spotted riding through the jungle to the south. Within minutes everyone in the hometree knew of her approach and gathered to hear what she had to say, watching as Eytukan and Mo'at meet her at the entrance to the hometree. 

He and Tsu'tey watched from in the crowd, not quite hidden, not with all the glances people were sending his way, but not the center of attention either. She dismounted and stepped forward to speak to Eytukan. He couldn't hear what she said, but the sad shake of her head and the thoughtful look on Eytukan's face told him all he needed to know. 

Eytukan dismissed her with a word of thanks, freeing her to return to her family to celebrate her return, and turned to address the crowd. "The Kekuna'an clan have no missing children. They have no knowledge of him."

That sent up murmurs among the clan, and Eytukan raise his hand. They quieted and he continued. "The rest of the messengers have yet to return. Let us wait and hear what they have to say."

"Perhaps the next one will bring better tidings." Tsu'tey said in an awkward attempt as reassurance, and he bit his lip to stop from saying that he very much doubted that indeed. 

"Come on." He said instead. "Let's do something else."

* * *

The next messenger did not bring better tidings. Nor did the one after that. Neither the Siwana'ate nor the Atinikya had heard of him, though both strongly assured them they would be happy to take him in if he had nowhere else to go.

Each negative response seemed to leave Tsu'tey more concerned, and he hovered about in awkward silence, always on the brink of saying something but never actually taking the plunge. Finally he couldn't stand it any more. "You don't have to be so careful." He snapped when Tsu'tey lapsed into yet another bout of hesitant comforting. "I'm not going to break down crying the next time someone talks about the clans."

"I did not think that, just..."

"Just what?" He glared at Tsu'tey.

"Is it not..." Tsu'tey measured the word carefully, taking in his glare and bubbling irritation. "Stressful? Any day now we will learn what clan you are from."

"No! Yes! I don't know!" He scowled, kicking at a fern frond. He glanced sullenly at Tsu'tey, but he wasn't truly anrgy at him, not really. He more annoyed at himself than anything. Everything hinged on the clan's replies, and the longer he waited the more he seemed to burst at the seams, all his worries becoming that much larger. 

He deflated with a sigh, feeling wretched. He shouldn't have taken his anger out on Tsu'tey. He'd only been trying to help. "Sorry for snapping at you. You're right, it has been stressful."

Tsu'tey nodded. "Come on, then. I have something to show you."

"But the messengers-" He protested.

"They may not come for days yet. There's no point in sitting around waiting for them. Someone from the clan will surely come and fetch us if one returns." Tsu'tey was already walking away, not waiting for him to catch up, and he had to jump up and hurry after him.  

"Where are we going?" He asked, falling into step with him. His leg twined a little at the sudden exercise but it was easy to ignore. 

"To show you the pa'li." Tsu'tey replied. 

"I thought you already had? I've seen them around a dozen times." It was almost impossible not to reaaly. Walking around the hometree some portion of the herd was always in sight, scattered around eating from flowers or drinking by the lake. Sometimes they wandered deeper into the jungle, but not often. Predators avoided the hometree, warned off by the warriors and if they came too close, but they were always present deeper in the jungle. 

Tsu'tey let out a sharp clicking noise as they approached the herd. They looked up at the sound, half dozen heads all turning in their direction. 

A couple of the pa'li drew closer, one bumping its long nose against Tsu'tey's side curiously and he stroked its neck, whispering a few reassuring words. It stayed there, letting Tsu'tey pet it for a moment, then wandered off again to slurp at a nearby flower when it had had enough.

He hung back, a little intimidated, taking a moment to admire them. This was the first time he'd seen one so close - well, when not half out of his mind with an infection, and that time he'd been so out of it he'd barely noticed anything except it was vaguely 'horse-ish'. This close its resemblance to a horse was only superficial - the differences in its strange physiology far outweighing any similarities. 

The largest of them had to be almost four meters tall, built heavy and strong with muscle. They had no hair, a smooth crest running from the top of their head down their neck where a mane would have been. Their antennae were another strange feature - branching off their skull by their ears and running almost all the way to their shoulders and swaying with each step they took.

Tsu'tey pressed an affectionate hand to the long lines of one's face. When he looked up and saw him hanging back he beckoned him forward. "Come meet her. She is not aggressive."

Tentatively he approached. At Tsu'tey's encouraging look he lifted a hand, touching her double jointed shoulder. She shifted at his touch, antenna swaying. She eyed him, honey eyes wide and expressive but turned away soon enough, accepting his presence. Her skin was humid from the jungle air but not unpleasantly so, warm and rubbery to the touch, the colour of a drizzling sky interrupted by wide swaths of blue.

Gaining confidence he ran his hand over her side, feeling the firm structure of her bones deep beneath her thick hide. He could feel the deep rise and fall of her chest against his palm and fluttering of the operculi along her neck, opening and closing with each outward breath.

"Would you like to meet her properly?" Tsu'tey asked. At his curious look Tsu'tey continued, sliding a hand down one of her antenna and grasping it gently, turning the shell at the end to reveal a line of pink filaments that coiled around each other, moving as if they were alive. Reaching behind him Tsu'tey grabbed his braid, brushing aside the hair at the end to reveal his own set of filaments.

"This is tsheylu." Tsu'tey said, carefully bringing his braid to the pa'li's antenna. Even before they touched the filaments reached for each other, unwinding from their own coil and stretching towards each other. As soon as they touched they wrapped firmly around each other, knitting tightly into a single band. Tsu'tey swung himself up onto the back of the pa'li in a smooth movement and she sprang into motion without Tsu'tey giving anyway outward gesture, kicking into an easy canter.

There was a smoothness to their riding that made it look effortless. They moved together, Tsu'tey keeping a light balance upon her back - not hindering her, not just a burden to be carried, but a partner in the exercise. He didn't even have to hold her antennae for support, simply leaning with her when she turned. 

When they circled back him Tsu'tey slipped off her back, making it look as easy as breathing. "This is how we connect with others. We share their mind, share their body, and invite them into ours. It is... trust. Sharing who you are completely." 

Tsu'tey gesturing him closer. His breathing was slow and deep, synchronized with that of the pa'li. Tsu'tey touched a hand to the joining of his braid and the pa'li's antenna. Even before his touch landed the filaments began to unwind, the bond breaking. Tsu'tey turned to him. "Now you try."

Uncertain, he stepped forward. He fumbled with his own braid - not a neat thing like Tsu'tey's but a sloppy job he'd barely managed to pull together that morning - and brought it forward. He was almost surprised to see the tell tale pink of the delicate filaments hidden in the end of his braid. Somehow despite all their talks of tsheylu and Tsu'tey's demonstration it hadn't computed that he would have one too.

He brought his braid closer to the pa'li's antenna, looking to Tsu'tey for confirmation. When Tsu'tey nodded he touched it to the pa'li's. Seeing Tsu'tey do it hadn't prepared it for what it would feel like.

He gasped, breathless. It was like being torn in half. He was here, but he was also  _ there _ .

He could see himself, herself, through two sets of eyes. Their eyes. And- _ She could taste nectar on the air. There were ripe flowers nearby- _ But that was wrong. He couldn't smell flowers, just mud and plants and-  _ The herd was there, her sisters grazing by her side, her foal nosing at some flowers. They were around her, part of her in a way that went so far beyond physical. Never alone- _ But he was. Tsu'tey was standing beside him but he couldn't feel him, not like that, and-  _ Stay with the herd. It was safe. Stay close. Stay close.  _

_ She breathed out, neck tickling with the exhale. Her lungs were large, so large, she could run for hours- _ But he couldn't? He was getting lost in the feeling, in the memory, and-

_ The flowers in front of her, behind him, near them, were muted grey- _ But they were yellow? Such a beautiful brilliant yellow, like the sun, like-  _ The ferns were grey, the ground was grey, a million shades of black and white and- _ So many colours, so many shades. The jungle was so colourful, even so close to the hometree so why- 

Breathless and disorientated, he stumbled back. His leg flared with pain and she panicked. _That was not her. She was not injured. She was not_ -

The bond cut abruptly, filaments untangling and dumping him on his arse, still unable to tell left from right and up from down. It couldn't have lasted more than a second but it felt like he'd been drowned in a sea of information. The feeling of having ten limbs total still lingered with him and he found himself clumsy in their absence, still expecting her second forelegs to provide that extra balance and push of speed. But they weren't there. He had two legs. He had always had two legs.

He slumped back in the dirt and shut his eyes, trying to block out the flood of sensory input. It was all too much. There were too many eyes and not enough, painfully acute sense of smell now disconcertingly dull. Even the tickle of the plants against his skin was wrong. It was too sensitive, too thin. Surely her hide was thicker than that?

A hand landed on his shoulder and he almost flinched, that prey response ready to spur him into flight. It took him a moment to remember the feeling wasn't his and breath through it. He was fine. He was safe. It was just Tsu'tey. "Are you alright?"

He took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "It all just... a bit intense."

"I ought to have warned you. It's hard to remember what the first tsaheylu felt like after so long. It is easy now, natural."

He huffed a little, dropping the crook of his arm comfortingly over his eyes. "That's easy for you to say. Merlin, it feel's like someone's cracked open my head and exposed my brain directly to the world."

"Surely if that happened you would be dead." Tsu'tey said "What a strange thought." And thinking back it sort of was. It had a level of morbidity that didn't usually come up in Na'vi conversation. Great, he'd needed another thing to set him apart. There was a rustle of leaves as Tsu'tey moved to sit beside him.

"Give me a minute." He said. "I almost feel like I might be able to open my eyes without fainting now."

Tsu'tey chuckled, nudging him with his knee. "I will carry you back to the hometree if it is that bad. But I think you are just teasing me."

He peeked through the gap beneath his arm at Tsu'tey, quickly closing his eyes again when his vision swam, somehow expecting gray-scale and startled when he got colour. "If I die you'll have to tell Mo'at it was your fault." He muttered.

"I will never live down the shame." Tsu'tey said will all solemnity. He couldn't see Tsu'tey's face but he could just imagine it. Mouth set in a firm line, golden eyes unbowed and determined beneath the heavy weight of duty. A sneaky peek beneath his arm showed him Tsu'tey was grinning at him, cheeky as anything.

"You're laughing at me." He moaned, just to make Tsu'tey laugh. It worked. Tsu'tey chuckled beneath his breath, flicking a nearby fern frond at his face. He scowled, wriggling away from it, but in the end he was still smiling too.

* * *

The last messenger returned four days later, returning from a trip that had taken almost two weeks even traveling by Ikran. That he would belong to the Li'ona clan was a long shot even without considering how far away they were, but they were the last of the Omaticaya's close neighbors so Eytukan had sent a messenger nonetheless.

This time he joined Eytukan and Mo'at in meeting the messenger, striding to the front of the crowd to hear it first hand. He was tired of waiting on tenterhooks. Better to have it be done with, one way or another. 

The man was tired from the road, weary from a long journey, but he bore it with goodwill, greeting Eytukan with pride and relaying his message. "I'm am sorry, Olo'eyktan, but he is not of their tribe."

Eytukan nodded, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "Rest, brother. I will call you tomorrow to discuss the news from the Li'ona."

The man bowed his head, relieved, and headed off, making a beeline for the central spiral and what he assumed was his bed. He watched him go, letting the silence reign for a moment. Then he gathered his courage and turned to Eytukan and Mo'at.

"So what happens now?" He asked. His leg was almost healed. If he wanted to he could even set off today, but... The idea wasn't as appealing as it used to be.

"That is for you to choose." Mo'at said, stepping up beside Eytukan. "If you wish to discover your path elsewhere then you are free to go. If that is not your desire... The Omaticaya would welcome you with open arms. The clan has grown very fond of you, many would be sad to see you leave."

"We are not so unkind a people to turn you away if you wish to stay." Eytukan added.

"I-" Lost for words, he nodded. "Thank you. I would like that."

Mo'at smiled gently. There was a mischievous glint in her eye. "Good. Then you shall have to choose a name for yourself. One would think you are a lost spirit, wandering around without a name as you like you are."

An inadvertent smile crept on to his lips. He nodded. "I'll try to think of something."

Mo'at pressed a warm hand to his shoulder, drawing him into a warm embrace. "Then welcome, son of the Omaticaya." Over her shoulder her he could see Eytukan, eyes warm and approving.

When she released him it felt like a weight had been lifted over his shoulders. The constant buzz of worry that had been plaguing him for weeks was gone just like that and he grinned, feeling more himself than he had in a long while. 

He was similarly met by another dozen of the Omaticaya - no, not the Omaticaya. His clansmen - when he finally broke away from Eytukan and Mo'at. Every step seemed to hold a new Na'vi waiting to press a hand to his shoulder or touch a kiss to his forehead and when he was released from the crowd, Tsu'tey and Neytiri were waiting. Neytiri threw her arm over his shoulder, almost bouncing with excitement, and met him with a gleeful, "Welcome, brother!"

Tsu'tey touched his hands to his forehead, tilting his head. "I see you, brother. Welcome to the Omaticaya"

He wrapped a hand around each of their shoulders and dragged them in for a hug, laughing. Neytiri grinned at him and even Tsu'tey couldn't help a wide smile. He wanted to say something, thank them, anything, but he couldn't stop smiling. 

* * *

Despite officially being accepted into the clan things didn't change much. Most of his day was still spent following Tsu'tey and Neytiri around and sometimes helping out with never ending list of chores to be done for the clan.

Usually this involved gathering fruit or helping prepare food for the evening meal, but sometimes it sent him further afield, scurrying up and down the hometree to fetch this thing or that for whoever needed a hand. 

One thing that did change was that he moved out of the healing chambers and given a hammock high in the inner chambers of the hometree. It was small compared to the massive ones usually used by the clan, fit only for one person, and it hung between two branches over what he knew was a relatively small drop. Tsu'tey must have said something about his skepticism, and they had given him a bed lower down. 

"This is just a temporary one." Tsu'tey explained as he showed him how to safely swing down into it from the branch. "We'll begin making you a proper one soon. Usually you're family helps but... The clan will help. We'll show you how to do it."

He practiced getting in and out of the hammock, more than a little unnerved by the way it was semi-transparent. It was made out of some sort of rope, all woven finely together, and yet when he brushed a hand along the lip as Tsu'tey instructed, it glowed faintly purple and followed his hand, curling around him. It was made of living plants, he realized with some awe, and made a note to ask how they were made.

The curling lip helped abate some of his nervousness but getting in and out was still a challenge, and he was sure that he'd end up falling at least once or twice. 

When he wasn't following Tsu'tey and Neytiri he wandered about, familiarizing himself with areas of the hometree that had before been inaccessible to him. Sometimes he saw groups of children running around, laughing and yelling as they chased each other about under the amused gaze of their caretakers. 

As far as he could tell it was rarely the children's parent watching them but always some benevolent cousin or friend, even just random clan members with time to spare, willing to put in a few hours here and there to teach the kids a thing or two. 

They had everything from weavers to singers to hunters looking after them, receiving the best teaching from each on any topic they cared to ask about. The only constant in their teachers seemed to be Mo'at. Everyday the groups of children would flock to her at noon hours and listen to her sing the histories and legends of the clan, joining in more often than often than not and singing along as soon as they recognized the story. 

The first time he heard the singing he didn't pay it much mind. The Na'vi were always singing, ready with a song for every occasion, or humming tuneless melodies beneath their breath to fill the spare moments. But after a couple of days he grew curious and wandered in after them, leaning against the wall and settling in to watch. 

The songs were unfamiliar and many went over his head, but he found himself pleasantly intrigued and returned the next day. Mo'at may not have the best singing voice but her attention to detail was incredible and her memory unsurpassed. The songs were beautiful, evocative, and often eerie in a way that left his bones feeling cold, a tightness in his chest he couldn't quite understand. And they were more than just music - they were stories. The history of the Na'vi, of the Omaticaya, conserved and passed down in the form of ballads and epic tales. 

That alone was enough to make him want to learn. For all his time among the Omaticaya, everything he'd learnt and seen, he'd still barely scratched the surface. 

And maybe the loss of his memory was a part of it too. While these children had been learning these songs and the skills of the clan their entire lives he was nothing more than a blank slate. People kept having to stop and show him how to do things, explain things they had known almost since infancy and it made him feel... not frustrated, perhaps, but a bit helpless. 

Learning about the clan, how they did things, how they became who they were today, lessened that feeling. 

After a week and a half of attending these lessons that he finally gained the courage to sing along. It was a song Mo'at had sung a couple of times, and it was quickly becoming a favorite of his. It was the tale of Silawyi, the first Ikran Makto.

He sung the first few verses tentatively, looking around furtively to see if anyone had noticed, then continued with more confidence when no one looked his way.

Silawyi had been a young girl the first time she'd seen an Ikran flying in the sky, and the sight had captured her heart. She fell in love with the idea of it - the thought of the winds around her, lifting her wings, pushing her ever higher - and she made a promise. 

When she told her clan what she was going to do they laughed and called it impossible, but Silawyi did not hear them. Her heart was set and she would not be swayed. 

Every day she would climb to the top of the tallest tree she could find and watch the Ikran fly past. They did not see her, and when they did they did not like her. She was a Na'vi, a ground walker, what was she to the might of an Ikran?

But still she went, every day climbing as high as she could, and as they years passed she grew bigger, grew stronger, until in the eyes of the clan she was a woman. Beautiful and strong, turning eyes wherever she went. 

A couple of the younger children giggled at that, elbowing each other and blushing full-faced. A single look from Mo'at sent them back to silence, and she continued the song undisturbed. 

One day she climbed higher than she had ever climber before, until she touched the clouds themselves. And when she looked down, all the world appeared below her. Thats was when she knew - she had reached the home of the Ikran.

The Ikran ignored her, as they always did, but Silawyi was determined. She stayed there, wandering amongst the nests for days and days, and yet still the Ikran ignored her. A season passed, and then another, and before she knew it she had been there an entire year, and yet still they ignored her. 

And she thought just for one moment, what if it is not possible after all?

Her home was calling her, she had been gone too long, and yet she decided to wander one last time before she left. No Ikran met her gaze, none acknowledged her approach, and then, just as she was finally turning to leave...

The children all breathed in, waiting for it even though they already knew the story, grins wide across their face. He smiled, amused by their antics, then focused back on the song as Mo'at began to sing the next verse.   

One Ikran looked at her, and when it did it saw inside her, right down to her very spirit. And what it saw enraged it, because it knew that if it was not angry then it would fall in love as well. Scared, it attacked, but Silawyi was fearless and strong. She fought it back, dancing along the very edge of the floating cliffs, unafraid.

One day and one night they danced together, Silawyi escaped its every attack, and on the second sunrise the Ikran, exhausted and defeated, bowed low before her. 

It was the first bond between a Na'vi and and Ikran. Siawyi paved the way for every Na'vi after her, and they still sung songs in honor of her strength and noble spirit.

He fumbled the words once or twice but no one seemed to notice, and he finished the song feeling rather pleased he'd managed to remember as much as he had. As the song trailed off he looked up and found Mo'at smiling at him. 

His cheeks went hot and he looked away, embarrassed at having been caught. Soon realizing another song was not coming the children cleared away, already resuming their loud cheer of laughter and shouting as they ran back out to play.

"I had thought to wait until you were more healed to begin your lessons but I see you have gotten a head start on me." She said, smiling wryly. "It is good seeing someone so eager to learn."

He ducked his head under the praise and shrugged, trying to look casual. "The clan histories are interesting. I like learning more about my clan." It felt nice to say that. His clan.

"I see you particularly like the song of the Ikran Makto." Mo'at said, and he didn't have to look at her to know that he wasn't fooling her at all. Mo'at was shrewd like no one he'd ever known, with a spine of steel and a wit so sharp it could cut rock. Yet, at the same time she was caring and kind, mother to the entire clan.

He didn't try deny it. "It's an interesting story."

"I think you will enjoy it when it comes your time to be Ikran Makto." Mo'at said. "Tsu'tey will be having his soon, but perhaps in a year or two when you have learnt more, it will be your turn." 

"I hope so." He said. That was a lot sooner than he'd imagined, and it left him flattered but also somewhat nervous. She seemed so confident in him. He hoped he wouldn't do anything to betray that confidence.

"Have you given any thought to your name?" She asked. 

He nodded, biting back a sigh. Choosing a name was easier said than done. He must have considered a hundred possibilities in the last few days, Neytiri and Tsu'tey both offering up possible suggestions, but none of them had felt right. There was something defining about a name and once it was chosen there was no taking it back. It became you, became how people knew you, how they thought of you.

"It's not an easy choice." He sighed.

"It will come to you eventually." Mo'at said, standing. "Do not rush yourself."  

That helped, a little, but it didn't stop him from worrying slightly when even days later he was still left without a solution, having rejected every option he managed to think up. Tsu'tey, looking more amused than anything by his preoccupation, was left dragging him about in attempt to prise him free of his thoughts.

"Come on," Tsu'tey said, leading him through the forest. He looked up, eyeing the forest curiously. 

It was an area they haven't come to before, a bit north of the hometree. A puddling river cut tracks through the dirt, patches of vegetation springing up here and there along its trickling edges. The path Tsu'tey lead him down was worn by years of passage, the prints of a passing pa'li herd still visible in the mud.

"Where are we going?" He asked, stepping out of the way of a brilliant orange wasp that danced around a group of flowers. It has to be the size of his hand and it buzzed warningly as he passed, flexing it three wicked stingers at him when he stared at it too long.

"The river." Tsu'tey said and ducked under a large root that wound its way in a gentle slope across the path. It's surface was covered with moss and ferns, soaked a brilliant golden green in the sunlight. He touched a finger to them as be passed, enjoying the sight of them bouncing back into place when he let go.

"Not to the lake?" He asked. It bordered the eastern side of the hometree, its shores not a stones throw from the entrance. Day and night the constant calls of the fkio could be heard from the great flocks that congregated by along the shallow edges of the lake. It had become a familiar sound and no longer turned his head, surprised, every time he heard them cry.

In the distance the ground gave way to a sudden rise, the river tumbling down its side in a great cascade. The jungle floor was rarely even, often giving way into deep depressions that ran for miles, the jungle spanning easily between these great levels, sprawling over valleys and ravines alike. The river continued unperturbed, pooling at the bottom of the waterfall and continuing on, splitting into the lazy trickle that led back the way they'd come and a greater branch that ambled along through the forest towards the lake.

Even from there he could see Na'vi at the river, taking advantage of the smooth stones bordering the deeper branch of the river to sun themselves dry after swimming. Some looked positively indolent, curled up in the light like giant cats.

As they approached a group looked up. One man grinned and raised his hand, waving them over. He was waist deep in the water, a small child paddling playfully his side, supported all the way by the man's hand. "Tsu'tey! Join us! You should have said you were coming."

"Lo'ak." Tsu'tey said, nodding respectfully.

Lo'ak rolling his eyes. "You take too much after my brother, I think. One would hardly know we are family by the way you speak." When Lo'ak spotted him he grinned. "So this is your friend everyone has been talking about. Come! I will introduce you to the rest of the family."

He shot a hesitant look at Tsu'tey, only to find he'd already gone ahead, making straight towards Lo'ak and his family. He followed behind, not really sure whether he was intruding or not. Lo'ak smiled at him, kind lines crinkling around his eyes.

"I am Lo'ak, brother to Ateyo." He said. With an exaggerated huff he hauled the child out of the water. She clung to his chest, making a petulant noise and reaching her small arms back towards the water. "And this is Lallan, our daughter."

The woman sitting on the rocks beside the pair smiled fondly, inclining her head at him. "I am Klethayi, Lo'ak's mate." She sat completely naked, smooth skin bared to the sunlight, and he averted his eyes, not sure if he should be embarrassed but modest none the less. No one else seemed to think anything of it. 

He looked around subtly and almost walked away completely when he realized that most of the Na'vi at the river were naked, their clothes discarded in little piles alone the banks. He was determined not to look at anyone, and turned away, only to find Tsu'tey undoing the knot on his belt.

Tsu'tey shed his clothes without a shred of hesitation, dropping his belt and covering cloth on a stone a little away from the water, next to the neatly folded cloth and dangling necklaces that served for tops for most women of the clan. For the most part they were just decorative, the modesty they provided a mere afterthought. Stil they were better than this. 

Mortified at the thought of having to strip too he rushed through it, throwing himself into the water as quickly as he could and sinking until the cool water lapped at his neck. Tsu'tey raised an eyebrow at him. "I did not think you were shy."

"Shut up." He grumbled, flicking water at him. Tsu'tey chuckled, dunking himself under the water. When he came up he was undoing his braid, wrapping the piece of twine that usually held it in place around his wrist and dipping back down to run his fingers through his hair in the water. Undone it reached most of the way down his back which seemed rather long to him but wasn't unusual by clan standards. 

Every member of the help their hair long though the manner in which they did so differed. Some kept a full head of hair, others had parts shorter, but the braid was was constant. Never had he seen a Na'vi wandering around with their hair hanging loose. 

He followed suit, scrubbing the dust and specks of dirt that came with living in the jungle off his skin and releasing his own messy braid to give his hair a wash. He'd been washing with the water brought to the healing chambers up until now but somehow that had never felt like quite enough. It was nice to finally have a chance to get the dirt out of his skin.

He lingered in the water, still too embarrassed to get out or sun on the rocks like the rest of the Na'vi. Klethayi took pity on him, reaching over and grabbing his clothes so that he could sit on the rocks with a, small as it was, covering. 

He'd initially been horrified when presented with the slim piece of cloth, barely more than a set of flimsy woven belts and some delicately placed cloth, but he'd been forced to adapt quickly. If it was that or running around naked he'd take what he could get. After the first couple of week he'd stopped noticing it so much but he was nowhere near attaining the easy confidence with nudity so common among the Na'vi.

Klethayi patted the stone beside her, inviting him to join her sunning on the rocks. Lo'ak and Lallan were still splashing around in the water, Lo'ak grinning and having as much fun as his daughter. Klethayi followed his gaze and smiled. "My mate is an infant. He's far too silly for his own good." Her eyes went soft and warm, like melted butter. "Then again... perhaps that is why I love him."

Sitting so close he could see that her hair was done up in one of the most intricate set of braids he'd ever seen, a dozen smaller braids leaving and rejoining a central braid, looping around each other in a mystifying pattern. She was in the process of tying off the last braid when he joined her, fixing the last gleaming bead in place. A dozen other small red beads dotting the complicated patterns of her dark hair, glinted in the sunlight like rubies. It was a beautiful effect. One that made him cringe at the state of his own hair.

A shriek of laughter came from Lallan. Lo'ak was struggling to get ahold of the giggling child who, seeing him coming, was trying to swim away out of his arms. Klethayi raised her eyebrow at him, regal as a queen, and left him to it, unperturbed by her daughter's flighty attempts to escape Lo'ak.

He tilted his head back to enjoy the warmth of the sun and let his feet trail in the water. It had stung his leg at first but feeling had soon abated, vanishing beneath the cool touch of the river. The water was clear and clean, a relief to the tight skin where the scratches were beginning to scar.

"You're wounds are healing well." Klethayi noted, casting a look over his back. The small scratches along his shoulders and arms from the spiny tree were almost completely healed, nothing left but raised red lines. Hard to hide maybe, but no longer painful save for the ocassional twinge. "They'll look quite fetching when they heal up."

Swimming had left him in a good mood, making him more bold than usual. Amused, he turned to her. "The Na'vi have a thing for scars then?" He asked, not actually expecting an answer.

"Why not?" She said, "They are the proof that you are strong. That you survived a threat that would have killed another. It's an attractive quality in a mate. I have no doubt many people will admire them once you come of age."

"It was just luck. I barely survived," He protested. Klethayi shrugged. "Then you are in Eywa's favor. That too is an attractive quality in a mate."

"There's no way to win this is there?" He grumbled, slumping back onto the rock. Over the years the water had worn it smooth, and now it soaked up the sunlight like a sponge, leaving it warm and dry. It felt divine against his cooling skin. He could see why so many Na'vi enjoyed this. 

Klethayi laughed, her voice like the tinkling of the river, but left him to it, leaning back to enjoy the sun herself. 

He stayed there a little while, basking in the sunlight. Tsu'tey had climbed up onto his own rock not too far away and was sunning himself, combing his hair with his fingers and starting to put his braid back in order. He considered doing so himself, but didn't manage more than running a hand through his messy hair before grimacing and giving up. His hair was bad enough normally but recently washed it was an utter nightmare, flyaway strands poking out in all directions.

Klethayi noticed his half-hearted attempt to tame his hair and hummed. "I had forgotten you had lost your memories." 

She said. "Braiding the queue can be difficult if you do not know the proper method."

"There's a proper method?" He asked, baffled. "I've just been trying to tie it up."

"That won't do." Klethayi said, sitting up. The beads in her hair jingled with a low sound, like a wind chime in a breeze. "The queue is important. It helps protect the tswin. If you don't do it properly the tswin can end up exposed."

He winced. The tswin was the pathway for tsaheylu, connected right to the brain. It was insanely sensitive - it had to be to achieve the mental bonding- but that left it especially vulnerable to damage. He tried toimagined what it would be like to get one of those delicate pink strands snagged on something or even, Merling help him, ripped. 

Klethayi raised an eyebrow at the look on his face. "You see why it is so important." She patted the rock beside her, motioning for him to come closer. "Here, I will show you how to braid the queue properly."

"Lallan, dear one, come here." She called, and looking to him she explained. "I will demonstrate on Lallan. It is not done to touch someone's tswin unless they are your mate or children."

Lallan settled in front of her, still dripping wet and giggling, and Klethayi set to work, walking him through the process of tying up the queue step by step.

"The rest of the hair can be put into the main queue too, to create one large braid, but often people choose to have separate braids. Sometimes because they like shorter hair, other times just for the look of it." Klethayi said, her fingers deftly maneuvering her daughter's hair through the motions of the braid. "Now watch carefully. Tying the end to protect the tswin but keep the end free for tsheylu can be tricky."

He copied the final tying off she'd done on Lallan's braid on his own, breathing a happy sigh when it all settled well, leaving him with a serviceable, if plain, braid. When he looked up Tsu'tey was sitting  on the rocks at the edge of the river and watching them with amusement, having long finished tending to his own hair and had dressing.

He waved his braid at Tsu'tey proudly, grinning when Tsu'tey just rolled his eyes. "I was starting to think you'd forever be running around with your hair half out."

""You're just jealous mine looks better than yours." He said. 

Klethayi smiled, arm wrapped lovingly around Lallan's shoulder. Her daughter sar perched on her leg, looking about ready to dive back into the water if left unattended for a moment. "If you wish to learn more you need only ask." She said. "It is always a pleasure to pass on these skills."

He looked at her complicated braids and tried to imagine how much time and patience it must have required. She'd been braiding it since before they arrived and had only finished minutes before their impromptu lesson. He shook his head. "Maybe another time. A simple braid is enough for me."

They had nothing pressing waiting for them at the hometree and took their time walking, leisurely following the path back along the stream,  chatting idly as they went. The pa'li herd had reappeared and was hanging around, sipping at the the flowers growing along the lazy stretch of river. He skipped over a vein of water, avoiding the worst of the mud. "I never knew braiding was so complicated."

"It is something of an art. Those with interest take pride in the complexity of their hair. Klethayi is one of the best in the clan at it." Tsu'tey said. "Only a few can match her."

"They seemed very cheerful." He doesn't think Lo'ak had stopped smiling for a single moment they were there, nor Lallan stopped giggling. Cheerful perhaps wasn't the right word for Klethayi. She was too regal for that. But she appeared good natured and happy enough none the less. To be honest their constant good humor and friendliness had been a little exhausting and in contrast Tsu'tey's easy silence was soothing.

"Apparently Lo'ak is much like his father." Tsu'tey explained. "While Ateyo and I take after their mother."

He raised an eyebrow, corner of his mouth turning up in a teasing smile. "So you're saying your personalities are inherited directly?"

Tsu'tey frowned. "That is not what I meant."

"I know." He laughed. Tsu'tey scowled, knocking him gently in the shoulder, but he could see Tsu'tey's heart wasn't in it. 

"You used to be so quiet. Now you are forever mocking me." Tsu'tey said.

"You like it." He replied, rolling his eyes. "You'd be bored without me." He added, feeling bold and buoyed up by the afternoons good humor.

Tsu'tey's reply was cut off then they came within view of the hometree. There was a crowd gathered near the entrance to the hometree, the children's peals of laughter ringing through the air.  Tsu'tey frowning disapprovingly.

"What is it?" He asked, confused. He glanced back at the crowd. "What's wrong?"

"The Skypeople," Tsu'tey said. They stopped, watching the crowd from a disatnce. He didn't say anything one way or another, simply angling for a better look. Among the crowd some Na'vi stood out, their clothes different from the rest, more familiar somehow. Mo'at had explained how some of the Skypeople had the ability to used Na'vi bodies, dreamwalkers they called them, but seeing it was different from believing it.

"It would ease my worries," Tsu'tey said quietly, "If you did approach them."

"Because they might be responsible for what happened to me?" He asked, and had to fight to keep from snapping. He'd had enough of people trying to tell him what to do, trying to protect him by keeping him in the dark and wrapping him in cotton wool. It never worked. It just put people in danger. It was the reason Sirius-

His train of thought cut off abruptly, going blank. He blinked. Sirius? What was Sirius? It felt important. So important. Yet for the life of him he couldn't remember why.

"Please," Tsu'tey said, and it was the closest he'd ever heard him come to pleading. He looked at Tsu'tey, his anger deflating immediately. Feeling wrung out and tired, he nodded. The Omaticaya had been good about keeping him in the loop so far, telling him their suspicions about the Skypeople's involvement with his past when they could easily have kept it to themselves.

It was... nice, sort of, to be trusted with all the facts. It made him feel less like he was running blind, trying to make the best of a bad situation while being pulled and pushed in all directions in a game he couldn't see.  

He nodded again, feeling more comfortable with it this time. "If it really makes you feel better I'll do it." The Skypeople were interesting, but they weren't that interesting. If it truly make Tsu'tey feel better for him to stay away from them, then fine, he would.

And anyway, he thought back to what the warriors had said, if the Skypeople truly went around killing animals and burning the forest for no reason then he didn't want anything to do with them. He might have only been with the Omaticaya a short time but it was long enough to know that nature was important, life was important, and he couldn't help feel a sour curdle of dislike for anyone who went about destroying either so thoughtlessly.

A minute amount of tension in Tsu'tey's shoulders melted away. He nodded tightly.

He sighed, nodding in the opposite direction than the crowd around the Skypeople. "Come on then. If I have to avoid the Skypeople we might as well find something else to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creature directory:  
> Talioang - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Sturmbeest


	7. The Talioang Hunt

He leaned back against a fallen log, watching Neytiri and Tsu'tey fire off arrow after arrow. They hit the target almost every time, sharp stone arrowheads driving home deep into the wood.

It had been before dawn when they'd towed him out of bed, ignoring his grumbling protests for more sleep and dragging him along to their morning training. Now the sun was high in the sky but still Neytiri and Tsu'tey showed no signs of stopping. It had been exciting at first, watching them aim and fire so flawlessly, but there was only so much excitement he after the third hour of watching, unable to try it for himself

Mo'at was still strictly enforcing a rule of no heavy exercise, and he knew if he so much as thought about doing anything strenuous Tsu'tey and Neytiri would rat him out in an instant, shamelessly and without apology. Resigned to his fate, he slumped back against the log, making himself comfortable in the sunlight. It seemed to sap the strength right out of him, leaving him floppy and relaxed.

Being injured sucked but he had to admit that this wasn't so bad.

The rhythmic thud of the arrows striking was almost hypnotic, lulling into a thoughtless doze. Somewhere in the far distance could hear the bellowing of an angtsik herd, and there, behind his head, the faint scratching of burrowing insects deep within the wood of the log.  

He must have actually fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he knew he was woken by a shadow appearing above him, blocking light. He blinked, squinting up at them and the dark outline resolving into a recognizable figure. He sat up. "Ateyo."

"I apologize for disturbing you," Ateyo said, "I was not aware you were asleep."

He waved him off, rubbing a hand across his face to get rid of the last lingering vestiges of sleep. Tsu'tey and Neytiri were still practicing, though with them that could mean anything from hours to minutes had passed. They were weird like that.

He shook his head, a little embarrassed at being caught so blatantly napping in the middle of the day. "It's fine. I would have woken up soon anyway." Probably.

"May I?" Ateyo asked, motioning to the log beside him. When he nodded Ateyo sat down. Even sitting he was a good head and shoulders taller than him. "Mo'at has said you have taken an interest in the ways of the clan."

"I have enough to catch up on that I figured I should make a start." He said. With Ateyo sitting the sun had returned and he had to fight the urge to tilt his head back and just bask in the sunlight once more. Pushing himself further upright he shook himself, focusing on the conversation.

"You're injuries still prevent you from starting many of the teachings,"Ateyo said, looking at him considering. "But Mo'at suggested that you wished to begin learning none the less. I would offer myself as a tutor."

"You'll teach me?" He asked, sitting up. He nodded towards Tsu'tey and Neytiri. "Archery? And how to ride the pa'li?"

"Not yet." Ateyo said. "Not until your wounds are fully healed. But there are other things I can teach you. Perhaps not as exciting as riding the pa'li or learning to fire straight and steady, but just as useful. And then," he added, "when Mo'at says you are ready, archery and riding too."

"I would be honored." He replied solemnly, and he was. From what he'd heard Ateyo was very weel regarded by the clan. He had years of experience and in his youth had traveled to several of the other clans, earning a name for himself as one of the Omaticaya's top warriors. "When do we start?"

Looking a little taken aback by his eagerness, Ateyo said "If it would please you - tomorrow."

The next few weeks passed in a busy bustle of learning with Ateyo and hanging out with Tsu'tey and Neytiri. Ateyo met him early every morning, leading to different areas of the hometree each  day for their lessons. He was a good teacher, patient and thorough, willing to devote hours to answering his questions even down to the tiny minutiae of the hows and whys and whats of every question he could think of.

Forest lore, edible plants and forest creatures, clan customs, trading, crafting, the Na'vi clans and their histories, even how to tie his belt so it would stay shut and hold a dagger - Ateyo was a wealth of information. He taught him anything and everything he thought to ask after, and even some things he didn't.

"Once you have undergone Iknimaya and Unaltiron you will become a man of the clan. Then you will have the right to carve your bow from the wood of the hometree." Ateyo said, letting him examine his bow. "Until then you will use a bow made from the great forest trees, and to do so you must learn to make one."

He ran a curious finger over the length of the bow. The wood was thick and strong, sturdy, its surface covered with a detailed array of carved decorations. Geometric patterns ran down the length of the bow and near the grip the image of a creature was carved painstakingly into the wood - an 'angtsik.

"It is my spirit," Ateyo said, noticing his interest. "An angtsik. It came to me during my Unaltiron, as yours will someday come to you during yours."

Ateyo had led him into the forest the next morning, selecting a strong tree a little while off from the hometree. Carving out a long block of wood was an arduous process, all the while Ateyo explaining how and why the specific section of wood chosen was best. It was hard going, the two of them painstakingly etching through the firm wood with a pair of daggers.

"The wood affects the nature of the bow," Ateyo said, brushing a patch of moss out of the way and digging his dagger into the surface of the branch, slowly stripping back part of the bark layer. "Strong, springy, rigid or flexible. It all depends on the type of tree, position and age."

Even after they extracting a long piece of wood and had returned to the hometree the progress remained slow. The work advanced at a snail's pace and he spent hours slowly carving the bow into the correct shape under Ateyo's careful eye. 

Seeing the bow start to take shape beneath his hands, rough shape starting to become visible, was more gratifying than he would have expected. The surface was still coarse and uneven, the ridges and cuts in the wood visible in shadows across its surface when he tilted it. Sometime before he went to bed he watched the glow of the moss light up it's imperfections from where it hung tied to the end of his hammock, wondering just how it could feel in his hand once it was finished. It was a visible sign of his progress since joining the clan and he could not say it did not please him to see it become a little better every day.

The muscles in his arms strained painfully after a couple of hours work, his fingers becoming stiff and sore. They worked on it intermittently, Ateyo stopping him whenever he noticed him grimacing.

"It is time for another lesson I think." Ateyo would say when his fingers began too slip to close to the knife.

"I can still work," He protested, not quite feeling satisfied. Just a little more and he'd be happy. He wanted to smooth out that nick near the grip and fix that kink near the middle, then maybe-

Ateyo shook his head, "It serves no purpose to work beyond the point of pain. The bow will wait for you and your body will thank you for it later." Ateyo often moved onto other lessons after that, though just as often if they were nearing midday he would release him to do as he pleased.

His motives for devoting so much time to making the bow were not so straight forward as he liked to pretend. Tsu'tey had been more busy lately. With his coming of age and an Iknimaya looming in the distance, his time revolved more and more around that. The hunters had begun inviting him along on scouting parties too, following the progress of a talioang herd in preparation of the upcoming hunt.

"We got news from one of the aerial hunters that a herd has been spotted within Omaticaya lands." Tsu'tey explained during the morning meal, the rest of the hunters trickling down through the hometree one by one and gathering for the day's work. The flicking of his tail behind him belayed Tsu'tey's excitement. "We're going to search for them today."

Tsu'tey's excitement was contagious. Even if he wasn't quite sure about all this hunting and killing business he was happy for Tsu'tey. If they found the herd then Tsu'tey was sure take part in the hunt. It would be the final proof he was ready for the coming Iknimaya.

A call from the lead hunter summoned the group. Tsu'tey looked up, quickly finishing off the last of his meal before standing. "I must go."

"Good luck." He said. Tsu'tey nodded, his expression all too serious. He was far too used to Tsu'tey's taciturn nature and he just grinned, bumping Tsu'tey's shoulder. "Bring me back the biggest one, yeah? All those hours of training better be worth it."

Tsu'tey huffed, throwing him off gently. All the same, he was smiling. "We shall see."

He watched the hunters leave the hometree, waving as Tsu'tey trailed out, the last of the group to leave. Tsu'tey looked back and gave a short nod. He finished the rest of his breakfast, helping several of the older clan members collect up all the bowls and take them to the lake for washing. Ateyo found him not much later to start their daily lesson,

After Ateyo released him he wandered around the hometree aimlessly, just watching people go  about their day to day lives. The weavers were singing again, working on their great project, and he could hear the children playing in the high ferns outside the hometree. These were his people. His clan. It still felt odd to think that and he couldn't deny the flush of happiness that accompanied the thought.

His clan. His family. Yes, it was a nice thought.

He ambled out of the hometree, almost wondering if he should go find Ateyo and ask for another lesson. With Tsu'tey away he was left bereft of company. Even Neytiri was busy, off attending her own lessons with Mo'at.

"Sylwanin is to be the next tsahik, not me," Neytiri had said. "But mother insists I learn it anyway. Not healing, that is not the job of the tsahik - mother is a special case, interested in many things - but the ways of Eywa. That is what she teaches us."

With Neytiri and Tsu'tey out of the equation his circle of acquaintances was pitifully small. Mo'at and Eytukan were out of the question of course - they had the running of the clan and a dozen other responsibilities that required their attention. They were far too busy for him to go bother them. Plus they still intimidated him a little. They weren't scary, per say, but he was always very conscious he was before the village leaders when he was around them. Klethayi and Lo'ak were also an option, but he didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable just popping up out of the blue.

"You're about to step on my tail." Someone hissed from beside him and he stopped, looking down to find a woman sitting half hidden among the ferns. She had to be a couple of years older than him, in her twenties at least. There was a string of a dozen intricately carved beads and sleek feathers lying across her legs and she was in the process of adding another to the line.

Looking down it was apparent that his foot was indeed only inches from her tail. He stepped back carefully. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

The woman huffed, rolling her eyes and turning away without another word. She inspected the necklace closely, lifting it to the light, before scowling at the knot holding one feather in place and slipping the last bead back off, untying it to redo the knot. The sting seemed to dance between her fingers and within moments the feather was reaffixed and she was slipping the bead back into place, tying that off too with a clever knot.

"If you're gawk at me you might as well sit down," She said, not even looking up from her work. "You're blocking the light. This is hard enough without working blind."

"Oh, um-" Should he go? She had said to sit down but she didn't sound like she wanted company. Hesitating, he hovered there.

"Sit down." She snapped. So he did. He dropped down beside her, careful to move out of the way of the sunlight. From down there the ferns seemed to block out the whole world, rising around them in a cradle of gently swaying green, the sky visible through the gaps of their reaching fronds. The ground was cool beneath him, smaller opportunistic grasses and young ferns growing where they could, shadowed by their greater kin. They tickled his skin with every breath of wind. 

It was... nice. He almost felt alone here. The solitude was almost blissful after the loud hustle and bustle of the clan. While everyone was friendly, it sometimes felt like he hadn't had a moment to himself since he'd first woken up in the healing chambers.

The woman seemed to share the feeling because they settled into an easy silence, only broken by her occasional noises of irritation when the tricky knots of the necklace went awry. When a bead slipped off the end off the string before she could secure it she cursed, pushing the necklace at him as she peered around trying to find it. "Hold that!"

When she sat back up, bead safely in hand, he offered the necklace back to her. She took it, nodding briskly, then went back to work wriggling the bead back into place. They returned into silence.

A little while later the ferns rustled and parted, letting through a Na'vi man. He paused at the sight of him, a look of surprise evident of his face. Then he smiled, nodding amicably to him. He turned to the woman, sounding blindingly happy. "Saheli! I am so proud. You have made a friend!"

"Quiet," The woman, Saheli, said, giving the man an impressive scowl. "You took your time in coming back. I'm almost out of materials." She forcefully thrust the necklace at him.

"You worked on it?" He said, examining the necklace, holding it ot the light. He didn't seem phased by her foul temper. He peered up at it, noticing that the part Saheli had been working on was much neater than the rest of the piece, the earlier bit's knots sloppier and slightly uneven.

The man smiled gratefully. "You did not have to."

She scoffed. "You were taking too long."

"You just don't like to admit you're a caring and helpful friend," The man said. He dropped down beside Saheli and, turning to him, nodding welcomingly. "I am Tsamui, and this-" He motioned at the woman."-is Saheli. I doubt she has introduced herself. It is nice to meet you..."

"Don't be an idiot," Saheli said scathingly, but her words had no bite. It was more of a fond scolding than anything. "This is Ateyo and Tsu'tey's boy. The one they found in the forest. He's still choosing his name."

"I apologize, " Tsamui said and he sounded truly sorry for it too. It was enough to make him feel guilty himself.

"It's no problem. I um- I've been having trouble choosing a name." He said sheepishly. Tsamui nodded sympathetically.

"I imagine it is difficult indeed."

"We get it." Saheli said. She turned to Tsamui, eyes narrowing accusing. "What I want to know is what took you so long. You ran into Emyi'ti, didn't you?"

Tsamui didn't answer her. Very purposefully he untied a small pouch attached to his belt, taking a bead from within and turning to work on the necklace. It didn't fool anyone. His cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red.

Saheli grinned savagely. "I knew it!" She turned to him, eyes narrow. "This idiot-" She jerked her thumb towards Tsamui, who was still trying to pretend the entire conversation wasn't happening. "-is pining like a teenage boy.  _ Pining _ . But he won't even talk to them."

"I'm not pining." Tsamui interrupted quietly. Saheli talked right over him, barreling on like a herd of stampeding angtsik. "Even now he's making Emyi'ti a gift, that bloody necklace, but he won't ever give it to him will he? It's ridiculous!"

Tsamui pushed a bead around, looking forlorn and uncomfortable. Saheli gave no quarter, pushing on ruthlessly. 

“You'll have to talk to him sometime you know. You turn into a stuttering mess every time he so much as glances your way. He's not totally oblivious - he'll notice it eventually."

"I don't stutter." Tsamui mumbled, blush only intensifying. "I talked to him perfectly fine earlier."

He was left sitting awkwardly between them, wondering if he should say something and excuse himself from the conversation. Tsamui looked ready to sink into the ground with utter mortification while Saheli narrowed her eyes at him, vicious and determined as shark following blood in the water.

"I could go." He offered awkwardly only for Tsamui to shake his head, somehow looking even more mortified. He hadn't even thought that was possible.

"No, no." Tsamui said. "Do not leave on account of us." He shot a disapproving look at Saheli, looking more annoyed at her attitude driving him off than the fact she'd just been grilling him ruthlessly. "The topic has been exhausted."

"You'll have to talk to him sometime - properly talk to him - and when you do I'll just point and laugh." Saheli said, a final parting shot, before settling into mutinous silence. Now free of the necklace she pulled out a couple of lengths of woven twine, tying them off and beginning a new weave.

Tsamui ignored her with an air of long suffering practice, turning to him with a friendly smile. "You joined the Omaticaya recently, yes? How are you faring?"

He shrugged. "There's a lot to learn but-" He paused, unsure and a little awkward. Tsamui looked up from his knotting, prompting him to go on, so he continued. "Ateyo has been teaching me. He's showing me how to make my first bow. It's almost ready for bending now."

"I remember making my own," Tsamui said fondly, slipping another bead onto the end of the necklace. "I'm afraid I wasn't very good at it. It snapped and I ended up having to start from scratch."

He blanched. That could happen? He'd spent hours painstakingly carving the bow. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to see it break just like that and have to start again. His distress must have shown because Tsamui was quick to reassure him.

"It was a rare case," Tsamui said, sounding more amused than anything "I'm afraid I'm rather a hopeless case when it comes to carving. I've no aptitude for it at all. Even the simplest cravings were disaster. It made my teachers despair, eventually they just gave up teaching me."

With that his bow was out of the prospect of imminent danger, a great relief make no mistake, he moved on. "I think I really like it here," He continued. "The clan is good. There's no pressure or anything. It's a nice change. Relaxing."

Saheli caught the slip, eyes narrowing. "A nice change from what?"

"I don't know." He rubbed his forehead. He was so tired of this constant mental frustration. He sighed. "It's just a feeling I suppose."

Still smiling jovially, Tsamui elbowed Saheli in the side. She scowled at him, muttering insults beneath her breath but let the topic drop nonetheless. He relaxed a little, happy to move on. He preferred not to dwell on his lack of memory. I didn't help anything and it just put him in a sour mood.

He stayed with Saheli and Tsamui for a good couple of hours. Despite their constant bickering they were rather good company. They balanced each other out, Tsamui smoothing over  Saheli's abrasive temper and her prying him out of his polite shell and livening him up a little. At some point he found himself wrangled into helping with their weaving, carefully winding together the thread fibers the way Saheli had shown him to produce a single thicker thread - just something to keep his hands busy as they talked. For the most part it was all gossip, who'd had had a spat with who and the news about what the other clan's had gotten up to.

"The Kekuna'an have a new Olo'ekytan," Saheli said. "A woman by the name of Wi'erya. The last had no children so they held a selection - apparently she beat a dozen of her clan's strongest warriors for the right to be chosen."

"Wait, so the Kekuan-" "Kekuna'an," Tsamui corrected gently. "-fight to see who will be their leader?" He asked. It seemed... barbaric was the wrong word, but something along those lines. Harsh at the least and unwise at the worst. There was no guarantee that those who were strongest were the best suited to lead a clan.

"The Kekunan are a fierce people. They live beside the sea and fly the storms, hunting the creatures beneath the waves like we hunt those of the jungle. It is a harder life than in the jungle and they pride themselves on it." Saheli said, a definite note of admiration in her voice. 

"Though," Tsamui added, "it is not the fight that determines the winner, just the candidates. They then present themselves before the Olo'ekytan and it is he who decides from there who will be the next leader. It is not so different from here. If the Oloekytan and Tsahik had not had their daughters then they would have chosen members of the clan to take their place when the time came. "

When he left sometime later they were still bickering. Saheli was grumbling about her brother, who'd apparently just recovered from a mild illness and was driving her up the wall with his renewed energy. Still, for all her insults he could tell she was relieved he was well once again.

Just as he turned to leave, bidding them goodbye, Saheli spoke up. "Isonali."

He turned, blinking at her. "Sorry?"

"For your name. Isonali." She said, throwing the word around as if it were nothing more than a token gesture.  She turned away again quickly, eyes going back to her work. "Not that I care either way."

"It is a name for someone with a good soul. A free spirit." Tsamui explained, smiling fondly. He wasn't at all taken in by her pretense at indifference. "Saheli is right. It suits you."

"Isonali." He said, testing the feeling of the name in his mouth. It felt new and unfamiliar but also... right, somehow. A free spirit, huh? He nodded to Saheli, who by all appearances was ignoring him completely. "Thank you. I like it."

As he walked away through the ferns he heard Tsamui say, more than a little amused, "You must have put a lot of though into that. It was a nice thing."

"Shut up." Was Saheli's gruff response.

When he told Mo'at she simply nodded and said, "It is a good choice. The name will serve you well I think."

The news of his chosen name spread like a wildfire through the clan after that, prompting another around of greetings from what seemed to be half the clan, each one welcoming him with his new name.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon by the time the hunters return. The first comes riding into the homtree, panting and grinning, shouting of a successful hunt and sending up a great buzz among the clan.

Isonali followed Mo'at down to the main chamber of the hometree, trailing behind the rest of the crowd heading towards the returned hunter. Apparently a successful talioang hunt would be enough to feed the clan days, supplementing their food stores by a great deal and providing a great bounty of other goods.

Nothing would be wasted. Every little thing would be used from the corpse muscle and horn alike, and that which could not be saved would be buried so that its nutrients may return to the jungle. 

"Anything else would be ungrateful," Mo'at said. "Disrespectful towards the life that was taken and an insult to Eywa. Killing is a sad thing, we do not do it lightly."

Drawn in by the excitement of the crows, Isonali ended up joining one of the large parties setting off to meet the hunters and help harvest the kills. An adult talioang was too large to be moved easily and had to be processed where it had been killed, the body gutted and cleaned on the spot and the meat cut up for transport back to the hometree.

A passing Na'vi offered him a hand up onto their pa'li, letting him ride behind them for the trip there. It took perhaps half an hour to ride there, further than he'd ever been from the hometree before, except for those first wild days wandering the forest. After a while the uneven terrain of the jungle gave way to a valley, sluggish rivers moving in shallow trails along the wide floor of the valley in what was probably the closest approximation to open plains to be found this close to the heart of the jungle.

They could hear them before they saw them. An earlier party of Omaticaya had already set to work on the talioang the sound travelled, shouts and laughter, calls for this to be brought there or meat to be taken away. What hit him next was the smell. The air was lousy with the scent of blood, the unpleasant smell of ichor from the gutting adding a gruesome undertone to it all.

Even dead the size of the talioang was astounding. There were three of them - two large adults and a juvenile bull. Lying prone, muscles lax, they were almost a head and shoulders taller than him, each one a mountain of thickset muscle and thicker bone.

The Na'vi seemed to know exactly what to do and they to work quickly, each going to their own tasks as if they'd done it a thousand times before. And perhaps they had. From what he'd heard large hunts like this were annual, sometimes even seasonal occurrences  The sight of the Na'vi elbow deep in the talioang was more than a little gruesome, the scent alone enough to make him more than slightly nauseous.

He managed to figure out something of a compromise. The smell he could deal with, and as long as he didn't look too closely at just what they were doing he was fine.

"Ah! I had not thought you would come." Tsu'tey said, dodging through the growing crowd to reach him. He looked tired but proud. Most alarmingly, however, was the blood smeared down the side of his head, a frightening amount of it drying on his neck and down his shoulder.

Isonali gaped. "What happened to you?

"What- Oh this." Tsu'tey said, brushing it off. "A small wound. It is nothing."

"Nothing? A piece of your ear is missing!" Isonali said, yanking him closer to get a better look. The wound wasn't as bad as it first looked. A small part of the shell of his left ear had been cut away, leaving a gap no more than a centimeter or two across missing from the rim of the shell. It seemed to have stopped bleeding already. Tsu'tey didn't appear to be in much pain.

Tsu'tey smiled sheepishly. "Truly it's not so bad. I'm sorry I worried you. But look." He motioned to one of the larger talioang, a strong bull with stout pair of horns, a spear buried deeply in the narrow breathing holes on it's neck. With a quirk of his lips asked, "Is that one big enough for you?"

Isonali rolled his eyes, "Well. I was hoping for bigger. But this one will have to do."  He glanced at Tsu'tey and smiled. "Really though, good job."

Mo'at ambushed them when they returned to the hometree, ushering them up to the healing chambers to take a look at Tsu'tey's ear. One of her assistants helped him wash the blood off and Mo'at inspected the wound, frowning, before covering the edge of the wound with a pale paste similar to what she'd used on his leg. 

"It is not serious," Mo'at said, finally letting them go. "But we shall have to watch it. Even a small wound can be lethal if sickness sets in."

It took the rest of the afternoon for the clan to process the talioang completely. The clan seemed to work in a frenzy, busier than a colony of ants. Isonali and Tsu'tey got roped into helping around, riding back and forth from the hometree to fetch wrappings for the meat and helping set up racks to smoke the meat outside the hometree.

"Everyone's in such a rush," He said when they took a breather beside one of the smoking fires, upwind to avoid the worst of the smoke. He'd done more work in the last few hours than in the last couple of weeks combined and he was made to feel it. His leg was starting to throb painfully from all the running back and forth and it was a relief to get off it. Nobody seemed to mind their absence. But then what had to be a good fraction of the clan was helping out, enough that the loss of two people wasn't even noticed.

"It's better to get it all done before nightfall," Tsu'tey said, "Before nantang or other creatures are attracted by the scent of blood. Whatever is left behind will be scavenged in the night."

Someone had started playing the drums early in the afternoon and it only grew louder as the evening wore on. The choice parts of the talioang had been collected early on and the clan had set to work cooking up a feast, tempting smells drifting out of the hometree all afternoon. All the fires had been lit and they cast the roots of the hometree in a warm glow.

He spotted Tsamui at one point, blushing and smiling shyly at a man Isonali recognized as one of Mo'at's apprentice healers. The infamous Emyi'ti probably. Saheli was there too, never far from Tsamui side. When she spotted him she rolled her eyes, gesturing towards Tsamui with an air of exasperation as if to say 'you see what I have to deal with?'.

Tsu'tey followed his gaze, curious. Isonali shrugged, "Saheli and Tsamui. They're sorta fun, even if they can't seem stop bickering for more than two seconds at a time."

The feast, when it started, was a lively affair. The whole clan was crammed into the ground chamber, spilling out through the wide roots of the hometree and into the open night. Fires blazed high into the sky and air was filled with the cheerful beat of music. A dozen other Na'vi had joined that first drummer, coming together to create a veritable orchestra with flutes, drums and a large stringed contraption that made the most marvelous strumming sounds.  

People sang as they danced, laughing together as they spun and stamped their feet, clapping along to the music.

Neytiri appeared through the crowd and, laughing, dragged Tsu'tey into the dance. He grumbled the entire way there but joined the dance easily enough, clasping hands with the other dancers and laughing as they twisted and turned around the fire. Isonali clapped along, grinning until his cheek ached. His leg may have prevented him from joining the dance but he enjoyed it all the same. The Omaticaya were just so genuinely happy. The feeling was infectious.

Tsu'tey flopped down beside him sometime later, looking tired but happy. Once the excitement of the hunt had worn off the day's hard work had begun to take its toll on him. He almost drooping, looking ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the next two days.  Not that he would ever admit it, soldiering on proudly as always through pain and fatigue.

They were nibbling on a pair of skewers of tender talioang meat, already quite full but managing to make just a little more room when presented with the treat, when Eytukan approached. Seeing him coming Isonali finished off the last of his in two quick bites, Tsu'tey had already finished his and laid the empty skewer aside. He moved to stand but Eytukan raised a hand, gesturing for him to remain seated.

"You have done well today, Tsu'tey." Eytukan said. There was a distant sort of approval in his eyes and, though not much by other people's standards, from Eytukan it meant a great deal. "You have proven yourself a fine hunter."

"Mo'at has long been saying you are ready and now, with such a prize to your name, the rest of the clan see's it too." Eytukan said, inclined his head. "The preparations for your Iknimaya will begin tomorrow."

"It is a great honor," Tsu'tey said, standing to give Eytukan a respectful nod. Isonali scrambled up after him, doing the same. Eytukan regarded them, amused, then turned and left, stopping only to take his own skewer of meat when offered before disappearing through the crowd. Tsu'tey watched him go, his composure unwinding a little more with each passing second. He was fighting to keep his face blank, little hints of excitement breaking through his solemn facade.

Isonali didn't even bother trying to hide his excitement, grinning openly. "Congratulations."

Neytiri came dancing up to them, appearing through the crowd to the sound of laughter. She dropped down next to Tsu'tey, pulling him into a tight hug, and then tugged him to his feet. She dragged him into a happy dance, spinning them around, laughing all the while. "Iknimaya, Tsu'tey! Congratulations!" Tsu'tey's cold facade couldn't hold up under the onslaught and he found hismelf laughing too, grinning helplessly as she dragged him into a spin.

The rest of the dancers were returning in this direction, the step sequence of their large circle taking them around the fire back towards them. Neytiri and Tsu'tey's small pair was absorbed into the greater group, linking hands to the sound of song and laughter. Neytiri looked back, grinning at him. "Join us!"

Amused, he shook his head. "I'm rubbish at dancing. Really."

"That doesn't stop Tsu'tey!" Neytiri broke away from the group. She took his hand, tugging gently. "Come on," she laughed, smiling at him until he gave up and let her pull him to his feet and into the dance.

* * *

The preparations began as soon as the Iknimaya was announced, the good cheer left over from the feast bolstering to even greater heights at the news, leaving the whole clan buzzing with excitement. Tsu'tey was one among several other young men and women who'd been deemed ready to take part in the journey and each one approached it with the same solemn respect. 

Isonali had thought Tsu'tey had been busy before, but it was nothing compared to now. He and the other candidates seemed to spend all their time preparing, meeting with several of the more experienced clan warriors and learning how to subdue and bond their Ikran once they reached the floating mountains.

"I'm still not sure i can really believe it." Isonali said, putting the finishing touches to his bow before it was bent, keeping Tsu'tey company as he prepared for the Iknimaya. "I keep wondering how they manage to float."

"That I do not know." Tsu'tey said. "They have been like that since long before Eywa created the Na'vi, and they will continue long after us. They are held there by Eywa's will, perhaps, to guard the Tree of Souls."

"I've heard people talk about it before." Isonali said, glancing up from his bow. "But no one's really explained it. What is it?

Tsu'tey set aside the whip like length of vine he would use to catch the Ikran's head. "The Tree of Souls is... an important place. It hold the spirits of our ancestors, and if Eywa permits you can sometimes hear their voices. Once you are a better rider perhaps I shall take you there."

"You're never going to forget about that, are you?" Isonali said, carefully shaving a small sliver of wood from the tip of his bow. It was almost done. Almost. There were just a few small things left he wanted to fix up and then he'd be ready for the next step. "It was my first tsaheylu. I think it went well, all things considered."                        

Tsu'tey just shot him a wry look, flicking out the vine again and snaring it around the narrow trunk of a nearby plant perfectly. The vine shut tight, binding to itself firmly around the wood until Tsu'tey gently pried it open, starting again. He make it look effortless. The one time Tsu'tey had offered him to try it the whip had gone coiling around the tree at an angle, end jerking out of his hand. A moment later it had slipped uselessly to the ground, not getting the grip on itself needed to give it strength. Tsu'tey had offered it to him again but he'd shaken his head, more amused than disappointed, and gone back to working on his bow.  

He was eager to get it finished. Ateyo had started showing him some of the basic positions and movements of archery, Neytiri letting them use her own training bow as she watched on. Ateyo's was too big for him, the draw far too heavy for a someone without his years of experience and skill.

The scars on his back had stung uncomfortably when he went to draw, no arrow nocked on the string, just getting used to the weight of it. Ateyo had corrected his position here and there, lifting his elbow and shifting his posture slightly. Within a minute of holding the bow drawn his arms started aching something fierce. He manage to hold through it for a little while before the discomfort forced him to release the draw with a grimace. Ateyo just nodded knowingly, telling him to do it again when the pain had faded a little.

"You better watch out, Tsu'tey," Isonali had said. "You might be one step ahead now but I'm going to catch up to you. " He said it jokingly but there was a part of him that meant it. Being behind Tsu'tey wasn't bad, he wasn't jealous or anything, but watching him take that next step forward while Isonali was still trying to get his legs under him made him feel his own lack of progress. He wanted to get up and start moving forward, become Tsu'tey's equal and a proper member of the clan.

The clan had given him so much. A home, friends, even what he would tentatively call a family. He wanted to give something back, and the first step in doing that was in gaining the skills so vital to clan life. After that, well, after that it was just a matter of improvement. 

Spotting Ateyo coming from the direction of the hometree he set aside his bow, tucking the small carving knife Ateyo had given him into the hard sheath tied to his belt. It was not even half the size of the daggers worn by most of the adult members of the clan, warriors and weavers alike, but the style of wearing it was the same. Ateyo had showed him how to tie and wear it safely.

"It is time," Ateyo said. "The final preparations must be made."

Tsu'tey nodded, slipping the vine whip into his own belt. Ateyo paused upon seeing him, adding. "You may join us if you like, Isonali. It is usually done within the close family but we would be glad to have you."

Isonali hesitated, looking to Tsu'tey. Tsu'tey nodded in agreement, gesturing for him to join them. Isonali stood, picking up his half-finished bow, and jogged after them, falling into step beside Tsu'tey. Ateyo led them high into the hometree, into an empty chamber not far from the great cavern where the sleeping hammocks hung.

There was a set of small wooden bowls sitting on the cavern floor on the far side of the cavern and Ateyo collected them, handing one to Isonali. Inside was thick colourful paste in bright yellow, just wet enough to be sightly liquid. Ateyo set his bowls down and indicated for Tsu'tey to sit.

Dipping a finger into one of the bowls, Ateyo painted a long line of white across Tsu'tey's collarbone in a curve that went around his shoulder. And then again, repeating the line on Tsu'tey's other side. Isonali watched, fascinated, as the intricate pattern began to form beneath Ateyo's careful ministrations. White seemed to be the main base of the pattern, standing out most starkly against Tsu'tey's skin, with pale green to accent it here and there, small dots and lines emerging along the strong lines of white. The yellow was used sparing and only to most dramatic effect, standing out brightly against the other two. 

As he worked Ateyo talked. Isonali suspected it was more for his benefit than anything else. "The markings depend on many things. Age, family, what one hunted, one's chosen path - they are all reflected in the patterns used." He hovered his finger over a pair of soft green lines down Tsu'tey's back. "These are the mark of our family. I wore them at my own Iknimaya, and my father before me at his. Lo'ak too wore them, though his daughter will wear her mothers. That is the way."

Tsu'tey sat there patiently for the good hour it took Ateyo to complete the pattern and explain the meaning of each symbol. The finishing touch was a bold V in yellow across Tsu'tey brow.

"This one is only for the Iknimaya,"Ateyo said, "and once one has become Ikran Makto. After that it may be worn at will - as a symbol of accomplishment."

The hair came after that. Yesterday Ateyo had helped Tsu'tey shave off much of it, in the style of many men of the clan. Tsu'tey had always preferred simpler hairstyles, he was much like Isonali in that way, and he did not stray from it now. The skin on the sides of his head was left bare, main queue remaining untouched while all but a few smaller braids of hair hanging around his temple were carefully removed. Now Ateyo rebraided them with new beads that gleamed in dim flickers of light. A gift in honor of his great hunt.

"There,"Ateyo said, tying off the last bead and stepping back, "Let me see you." Tsu'tey stood, spine straight and head held high under his father's assessing gaze. He looked... fierce. The paint made him look like another person entirely, revealing a side of him that Isonali had never seen before. It wasn't bad, just strange.

"Your mother would have been proud to see this day,"Ateyo said, the words barely more than a whisper. His eyes were sad, almost wistful for a moment before he brought himself back under control.

"And you?" Tsu'tey asked in a rare moment of vulnerability. Isonali shifted uncomfortably, dragging his eyes to the floor. This was an intimate family moment between father and son and he felt entirely out of place. He was an intruder in the scene. The only keeping him from practically fleeing from the chamber was that doing so might disrupt the moment further.

"I have never been prouder," Ateyo said, a genuine tone of affection and warmth in his voice. Seeing Ateyo so open was a rare occurrence - even Tsu'tey in his full proud sternness was nothing on Ateyo - and it was all the more precious for it. He laid a hand on Tsu'tey's shoulder, drawing him into an encompassing hug. Isonali barely heard his next words, so quiet was his voice. "I would have no other as my son."

A horn sounded from the center of the hometree, echoing hauntingly up through it's twisting spirals until the whole hometree seemed to vibrate with the sound. Ateyo released Tsu'tey, stepping back.

"It is time."

They descended through the hometree. As they neared the gathered crowd Tsu'tey nodded at him, looking determined and pleased. He did not looked worried or nervous, but that just made Isonali worry in his stead. Sure, experienced hunters would be there to guide them through the Iknimaya but even then it was a dangerous process. Ikran were strong, fast, and fiercely determined to stay free. More then one hopeful participant had died attempting to bond one in the past.

Tsu'tey had developed something of a knack for knowing when Isonali was worried, having learnt far too easily, in Isonali's opinion, his habit of bottling his worries inwards rather than talk about them. Now was no different. He laid a reassuring hand on Isonali's arm, leaving it there for a brief moment before clapping him more firmly on the shoulder.

"When I come back I will be a man. " He said, and shot Isonali a teasing look. "Perhaps then I'll be able to finally teach you how to properly ride a pa'li."

"You wish," Isonali said, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling. "By the time you come back I'll have it mastered. Don't think I'm going to go lazing around now that my leg's almost healed."

"I look forward to it." Tsu'tey said, a glimmer of amusement of in his eye.

The horn sounded again, summoning Tsu'tey and the other hopefuls.  The other participants of the Iknimaya drifted out of the crowd from where they'd been giving their farewells to their families. The trek to the floating mountains would take several days and for many it would be the first time they'd spent so long away from the shelter of the hometree. Already most of them had gathered before Mo'at and Eytukan, joining the older warriors who were waiting for them.  Tsu'tey moved to join them but Isonali stopped him.

"Just- Be careful." It was the least he could stay without blurting out the messy tangle of his creeping fears and worries. That something would go wrong. That Tsu'tey would get hurt or worse, and Isonali would be left adrift once more, his first friend in the world gone. He exhaled, shoving down the feeling. He was being paranoid and he knew it.

Tsu'tey just looked at him. He nodded, completely serious. "I will do my best to return unharmed."

Isonali supposed that was the best he could hope for. The horn sounded again. Tsu'tey was the only one not with the group now. Tsu'tey nodded briskly, one final reassurance, then joined the group. They wasted no time in leaving, the warriors taking only brief moment to ensure everyone was prepared before they turned and set off through on of the hometree's great arched entrances.

"Good luck!" Isonali shouted after them, drawing startled looks from the Na'vi around him. He didn't care. He couldn't let Tsu'tey go without saying it at least once. Tsu'tey and the group were already out of sight, disappeared out the mouth of the hometree but they must have heard him because happy calls of 'Thank you' came drifting back into the hometree.

Feeling a little embarrassed by his loud outburst, Isonali quickly quit the crowd. He had spotted Tsamui and Saheli earlier, lingering by one of the far entrances, and he had no doubt they'd be heading out that way to find a spot for the day's work. Saheli had recently taken up the task of weaving new baskets for the clan, along with many other of the weavers who weren't working on the central tapestry.

Sure enough he spotted them by the edge of the lake, half shadowed by a patch of ferns but close enough to the water to enjoy the slight breeze that drifted across it's cool waters and cut through the hot afternoon air.

He joined them without fanfare, Saheli foisting off a tangle of fibers on him almost as soon as it arrived. It wasn't the first time she'd done it. From what he understood it was a common but dreaded part of being a weaver. Many of the plant fibers, vines and sinew that the Na'vi used in their weaving had the unfortunate habit of tangling horribly even when carefully stored, leaving it an almost daily task of the apprentice weavers to ready the materials for their master's  work.

"I thought becoming a full weaver would free me of it." Saheli had grumbled, sending a particularly vicious look at an unholy mess of tangled fibers "But no. It never ends."

Isonali didn't mind it too much. There was something almost therapeutic about spending an hour or two unraveling the tangles. It took just enough concentration to keep his mind from occupied but was physical enough to to not require much thought. A welcome reprieve from the dozens of concerns that seemed to otherwise crowed his head.

Tsu'tey's Iknimaya. His lost memory. The Skypeople. Which path he should take within the clan. The seemingly innocent matter of whether his bow was good enough. Even when settling easily and happily into the clan life there seemed to be no end of things to worry about.  

Untangling the fibers helped him take a step back from it all and just relax. Saheli had teased him about it a little, telling him he should be a weaver if he liked it that much. Isonali had just shrugged. "Not really."

While the untangling was well enough he couldn't imagine devoting the insane amount of time and energy Saheli and the other weavers did to those finicky patterns. It was like Klethayi and her complicated hairstyles. She enjoyed the challenge and process of it all, but Isonali couldn't scrape together the interest to do more than a simple braid. Despite his disinterest Kleathyi had managed to trap him once or twice, maneuvering him into accepting her lessons with invitations so polite it felt almost criminal to refuse. She'd taken pity on him, sticking to simpler patterns, but even those were a step above what he'd usually do for himself.

But her efforts in teaching him had paid off in the end. He'd found himself using a couple of the simpler ones once or twice, when the mood struck him after a visit to the river. It wasn't anything special - not compared to Klethayi's regal and complex styles - but it was a nice change from his usual braid.

Tsu'tey had never said anything about it. Isonali didn't know why but he'd somehow expected him to. Tsu'tey was, not manly per say, but very distinctly a guy. Yet he hadn't so much as blinked at seeing Isonali doing up his hair. His expectation of a comment, even a joking remark, was so instinctive it was almost unnatural. It had no basis in Na'vi way of life - Omaticaya men wore their hair just as finely as the women, sometimes more so depending on the individual - and Isonali was left to wonder where the idea had even come from.

It was just another thing to add to his list of uncertainties. Pulling the final string free of the tangle, Isonali sighed, leaning back. While relaxing, untangling was by no means easy work. Sometimes the fibers had knotted so tightly that it made his fingers ache trying to pry them apart. Nice as it was, there was always a sense of relief at having finished.

He watched the lake, enjoying a moment of calm. There were a couple of fkio not far from him, feet in the waters as they dipped their heads to the surface and ran their barbed beaks through the top water to filter out insects. They kept their four wings spread as they did so, using the shimmer of the light against their violet skin to dazzle their prey.

Though beautiful to look at their voices were quite harsh, little more than scratchy whistles that irritated the ear. It had taken a little getting used to - it was always jarring at first, and it was only recently that he had learned to filter it out. Tsamui and Saheli didn't even seem to notice, but then they'd grown up listening to the calls of the fkio.   

He spent the next couple of days mostly hanging around with Saheli and Tsamui whenever Ateyo's lessons didn't keep him busy. From what he'd been told the journey up the floating mountains took several days, though the quick journey back by flight if they were successful more than made up for it. It was a long time, all things considered, still Isonali couldn't help but wish Tsu'tey was back already. Saheli and Tsamui were nice but he missed Tsu'tey. There was something easy about hanging out with Tsu'tey that wasn't quite there with anyone else.

The sound of someone calling his name makes him start, Tsamui and Saheli both looking up from their work as well, and he looks up to find Neytiri advancing towards them through the ferns leading a group of Na'vi.

No, not Na'vi. Skypeople. Their clothes were unmistakable, and there was something about their way of walking that set them apart. It wasn't quite the smooth glide of the Na'vi, who tended to avoid stepping on plants and animals without any obvious effort. In comparison the skypeople crashed through the undergrowth, leaving the plants disturbed and out of place in their wake.

Isonali frowned at Neytiri, feeling a little betrayed. She's known Tsu'tey didn't trust the Skypeople, known that Isonali had promised to stay away from them, and yet she'd ambushed him with them. There was no way of getting out of this without blowing them off completely and hurting Neytiri's feelings in the process. He was stuck meeting them. And then Tsu'tey was going to think he'd broken his promise, not even waiting for him to be gone a couple of days before seeking them out.

Neytiri grinned when she saw him, waving. "Isonali, there you are! Come! I want you to meet Grace!"

Biting down the urge to just snap "No thanks." and leave, Isonali got to his feet, Tsamui and Saheli following suit. Neither of them looked comfortable with this. Saheli was openly frowning at the Skypeople and while Tsamui looked happy to see them Isonali could tell his smile was more out of politeness than anything else.

For the most part the clan was on amicable terms with the sky people, but even then there was a great difference between being 'not hostile' and being totally comfortable around them. Ironically it was perhaps the children who were most attached to the Skypeople, having grown friendly with them at the school, their relationship served as a sort of bridge between the skypeople and the rest of the Na'vi, of whom many were still wary about these strangers.

"Neytiri," He said, greeting her with a polite nodded. It was more formal than they usually behaved, and it threw her a little. She blinked at him, looking a little hurt, her expression turning slightly guilty when she realized just why he was acting so cold.

But it was too late to turn back now. The Skypeople were already advancing, a woman at the head of the group smiling as she stepped forward to meet him. She managed the Omaticaya greeting even better than he did, touching her fingers to her forehead and giving a solemn 'I see you' as if she'd been doing it all her life.

He returned the gesture hollowly, feeling clumsy in comparison. "I see you."

"I'm Grace Augustine." She said. "I'm the head scientist on the base." The rest of the Skypeople followed suit, introducing themselves one by one. Not all were as practiced as Augustine, fumbling here and there over words and struggling with the difficult Na'vi pronunciation.

"It's nice to finally meet you."Augustine continued, smiling. "Neytiri has told us so much about you. To survive an encounter with a Thanator... You must be pretty brave." She meant it kindly, a compliment just to be friendly, but it rankled none the less.

Isonali sent an accusing look at Neytiri. It was an open secret in the clan that the Skypeople might be somehow involved with his situation, and it left them even more protective of him than normal, him being injured as he was. More than once members of the clan had just _ happened _ to step between him and the Skypeople, blocking him from their sight - and yet Neytiri went around sharing his whole life story with them. 

Neytiri didn't meet his eyes. His anger cooled a bit at that and he sighed. She hadn't meant bad. The Skypeople were her friends, she trusted them. She hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong telling them about him.

Augustine and the other Skypeople must have sensed the atmosphere, because Augustine's smile went a little tense. But she didn't take offense, continuing to smile politely even when Saheli make a scathing and totally unhelpful remark at something one of the Skypeople said. With a bit less than half the clan cautiously willing to trust them and the rest openly suspicious this wasn't the first time Augustine and the other Skypeople had to navigate troubled waters, nor would it be the last.

They managed to keep up a very stilted conversation for about ten minutes. It mostly consisted of Augustine asking polite question, Isonali awkwardly answering while saying as little a possible and Neytiri trying to bridge the gap and drag them all in a friendlier direction.

To be fair it wasn't all bad. Despite Isonali's best efforts to stonewall the Skypeople he found himself interested in what some of the Skypeople were saying. 

"They came from another world," Neytiri explained, her smile and usual cheerful disposition returning soon after he'd stopped being so curt with her. "Beyond even Eywa's Sister in the sky."

"It's another planet," Augustine added, sounding more at ease now that the atmosphere had lightened a little. Science was her element, and as soon as the conversation turned in that direction some of the tension faded from her shoulders, like a fish returning to water. The other Skypeople had even managed to draw Tsamui and Saheli into discussion, a younger man with halting and awkward Na'vi even managing to capture Saheli's interest with a description of an ancient tribe of warrior women who used to live on their planet. "We call it Earth."

The word made his inside run cold. He knew that word, he knew he did. It was familiar, obvious, yet he'd never heard it before. It wasn't a Na'vi word, it wasn't anything any of them had ever said. So how?

Disconcerted and unsettled, he pried himself out of his head, pushing down the wave of panic to try and focus on what Augustine was saying. She and Neytiri were still talking. Neither seemed to have noticed his moment of inattention.

"- it's four point three seven light years away." Augustine said. Neytiri nodded, her fascination obvious. "Even with our current technology it took us a bit more than six years to get here." 

Neytiri turned to him, grinning. Isonali barely managed a shrug. Maybe another time he would have been fascinated but now the worry about Earth weighed heavy on his mind. He couldn't muster the concentration to even pretend to be interested, just nodding blandly whenever either Augustine or Neytiri turned to look at him, waiting for his input on the conversation.

A few of the other Skypeople had wandered off around the surrounding area, poking at the plants and chattering enthusiastically to each other in their own language. A piece of the conversation drifted over, and it was only after listening to them chatter on about the healing properties of some those species that he realised what was happening. 

Abruptly he excused himself from the conversation, leaving Neytiri and the others staring after him, baffled, as he quickly fled from the scene. Neytiri called after him but he didn't respond. 

When the Skypeople were out of sight he stopped, leaning against the wall of the hometree and trying to quiet the frantic beating of his heart. It felt like it was going to burst out of his ribs, like any minute it would just explode in his chest, it was beating so hard. 

His thoughts lashed around in his head like a whirlwind, like a storm, beating against the insides of his skull without any sort of solution in sight. He didn't know what to think, didn't know what this meant. He didn't know!

* * *

It took a long time for him to calm himself, and when he did he found his legs leading him up through the hometree, towards the highest branches. He scaled the inner paths of the hometree without stopping to talk to anyone, letting out a exhausted breath when he finally stepped out onto one of the outer branches of the hometree, the whole world dropping out around him.

Tsu'tey had brought him up here a couple of times after seeing his interest in the Ikran. From here you could see the colony where the bonded Ikran roosted in the higher branches of the hometree. They were barely more than flickers of colour from so far away, the roost still a good couple of hundred meters higher than his own branch, but sometimes he could see them flying past.

Isonali sat down, letting his legs stretch out along the comfortable curve of the branch without straying too close to the edge. There was something almost freeing about being so high up. And perhaps part of it was the fear, the exhilaration of standing so close to the brink with the certainty that it would take only one slip to send him plummeting.

But it was also the sheer beauty of being so high up. From here he could see the entire jungle stretch below, see the curve of the river all the way to the valley where Tsu'tey had had his first hunt and to the horizon beyond that. You couldn't see it from below but there was always mist on the highest trees, clinging to the utmost branches in thin wisps of cloud, and at the lake the fkio flock could be seen. A great blur of purple scattered along the side of the lake until all at once they all took to their air, rising in a swarm and skimming across the surface of the lake to escape whatever had perturbed them.

He was calmer now, after having some time to think, but his thoughts still weighed heavy on him and it took a long time before he relaxed. And even then he couldn't help but stress about what it all meant.

He'd been getting better here, making good progress towards settling in with the clan, able to let go of some of his worries and just live. There was no pressure to do anything. No great expectations about who he was and what he should do. And it had been good. It had been so good, like lifting a weight off his shoulders he'd never known he'd been carrying.

Now it felt like he was standing on the knife's edge once more, all his worries and problems reemerging in a violent flood of panic and unease and coming crashing down around him once more. He brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest, just staring over the edge of the branch.

Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

By the time the evening meal came around he'd managed to pull himself together and achieve a somewhat more peaceful state of calm. Still, he didn't feel like going down for dinner. Neytiri would be there, the Skypeople too probably, and he didn't feel like dealing with either of them again so soon.

The piercing cry of an Ikran made his ears flick not long after dusk fell, the sun falling below the horizon and the light giving way to the dim twilight that acted as night here. He ignored it at first, more than use to the passing cries of Ikran. It was only when the heavy beat of wings grew louder and not fainter that he looked up.

The Ikran wasn't heading up to the roost but heading right towards his branch, already its wings flared out to slow it for landing. As he watched it dropped down onto the branch, making a somewhat clumsy landing and almost falling before it got its claws into the wood and clambered up securely. It's rider slipped off it's back, releasing the tsaheylu and waving.

Isonali scrambled to his feet, grinning. "Tsu'tey!"

"I thought it was you I saw," Tsu'tey said. His Ikran made an hissing sort of noise, eyeing Isonali aggressively when he made to step forward. Tsu'tey quickly put a hand to it's neck, reassuring it.

"It's okay," he said finally, once the Ikran had calmed somewhat, leaning into his touch. It had quieted, hissing trailing off to nothing under Tsu'tey reassurance. "You can come closer."

Isonali approached slowly. He kept his eyes low, going so far as to dip into a slow bow. Creatures like this were intelligent and strong. If you didn't respect their strength, respect their nature and what they were capable of, then you put both of you at risk. Ikran or hippogriff it was all the same.

Hippogriff? Where had that come from? He brushed the thought aside, making a note to look into it later. By now he had a veritable list of things like that, names and phrases that came out of nowhere and that he couldn't never quite managed to explain.

When he rose from the bow the Ikran was still watching him. The hostility had left its expression. It blinked at him once, clear eyelids drawing across to cover its eyes for a second, before turning its head away. It wasn't anywhere near what you would call friendly but it tolerated him and that was enough.

Isonali stepped forward, making sure to keep a good few respectful feet between him and the Ikran nonetheless. Tolerant or not he didn't want to know what it would do it he went to touch it. 

Tsu'tey smiled, keeping a hand on the Ikran's side, proud as anything. "His name is Ienrra."

Up close the Ikran was even more impressive. He's large even for an Ikran, with strong, sharp teeth and a good set of claws. A fine male. The colour of his hide is almost ironic, the bright patches of sunny yellow visible even in the dim, utterly out of place in his otherwise intimidating appearance.

The Ikran had turned back to inspect him while he'd been occupied admiring it's colouring but when Isonali notices him watching he turns away again, snubbing him with a very purposeful air.

"Well you named him right, "Isonali said. "I don't think I've ever seen a creature more proud. Though..." He added, smirking a little, "I suppose it fits. Any Ikran of yours was sure to be just as proud."

Tsu'tey huffs, rolling his eyes. "Now you exaggerate."

Ienrra put up with Tsu'tey's petting and Isonali's inspection a while longer then stepped away from Tsu'tey's hand with a huff, twisting its long neck to make a fond cooing noise at Tsu'tey before dropping off the edge of the branch. A moment later it came soaring up the other side, wings held wide and beating as it rose to join to roost.

They lingered up there, Tsu'tey joining him. By then the bottom of the hometree was aglow with light as the clan went through the last motions of the day, gathering around fires after the evening meal to spend time together after a long days work.

It didn't take long before Isonali was quietly pouring out the whole affair with the Skypeople. Tsu'tey was frowning almost from the beginning but he didn't say to reproach Isonali is meeting with the Skypeople. It felt good to get it all out there and let it all bottle up and fester. Freeing, somehow, as if just talking helped even when there was nothing Tsu'tey could do fix this.

"Neytiri is naive sometimes,"Tsu'tey said, sounding more apologetic than anything. "She knows some of the Skypeople who are nice and has trouble seeing that not all of them may be the same. I should have expected this to happen."

"It wasn't just the word."Isonali admitted quietly. He almost didn't dare say it. It was just another thing to set him apart, another reminder he was a stranger among the clan. 

"When they were speaking- Not Na'vi. Their other language... I could understand what they were saying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always if there's anything that stands out that you particularly liked, or any areas you think could use work please don't hesitate to leave a comment. In fact I encourage you to. There's nothing better as a writer than hearing people like your work, even more so when you say which bit you liked. Don't be shy! I love to hear from you guys.
> 
> Creature directory:  
> Fkio - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Tetrapteron  
> Ikran - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Mountain_Banshee


	8. Unaltiron

"I still don't think they could have done this," Neytiri snapped, glaring at Tsu'tey from across the fire.

"You think Isonali is lying?" Tsu'tey asked tightly, the edge of anger growing more pronounced the longer the argument continued. "You would believe them over one of your own people?"

"No!" Neytiri's ears drew back, a hurt look flashing across her face, her lip quivering. Tsu'tey's words cut deeply,  perhaps more so than he'd intended. She gathered herself up, eyes flashing angrily, and stood her ground. "Just- There may be another explanation."

They were hidden away in one of the smaller chambers. Tsu'tey had insisted on going to Eytukan and Mo'at immediately, more mad than Isonali had ever seen him, and it was only Isonali's desperate pleading that stopped him from just walking up to them in the main chamber and blurting the story out for the whole clan to hear. 

Instead Tsu'tey had stiffly asked for an audience, letting them be led away to a more private area. Eytukan and Mo'at were now deep in discussion, their faces grim at the implications. Neytiri hadn't meant to be here, but she'd been with her parents when they had approached and had refused to leave. 

Now she and Tsu'tey were snapping at each other like a pair of angry nantang, leaving Isonali to stand wretchedly off to the side, feeling even more miserable than ever. Neytiri had looked so started when Tsu'tey had said it, and the brief flash of dismay had quickly given way to a loyal defense of Augustine and the others. 

"You know that is not likely," Tsu'tey countered sharply. "The skypeople have never been as connected to the other clans as us, and every clan near us had denied him being one of them. What other explanation is there for him being found so far from his clan - save if the skypeople took him from his and brought him here?"

"Now you're making things up." Neytiri snarled. Her tail lashed furiously behind her, expression dangerously close to baring her teeth, a far more hostile gesture than what he'd ever expect towards  a friend. "I know Grace. She would never do this. She has nothing to do with it."

Isonali was saved from hearing Tsu'tey reply when Eytukan and Mo'at returned to the conversation. Tsu'tey and Neytiri both hushed, waiting to hear what they would say, but the hostility didn't lesson in the least. Their postures were tense and closed off, Neytiri's arms folded defensively over her chest and Tsu'tey's tail lashing angrily behind him. They couldn't look at each other except to glare. 

"We have considered the matter," Eytukan said. "And it is worth looking into." Neytiri shot him a hurt look, betrayed, but Eytukan was not finished. "However there are other possibilities to be considered, and we will not take drastic action without sure evidence. We will try find out more about this. In the meantime the patrols will be increased along the borders, and I will have people watch the skypeople."

Tsu'tey didn't look completely satisfied, but he nodded, accepting their verdict. Neytiri was less forgiving. She let out a frustrated noise and marched from the room, shooting a poisonous glare at Tsu'tey as she passed. "You must be pleased."

Eytukan and Mo'at shared a look but they let their daughter go. Her fury would burn itself out eventually, and a intervention would likely only make it worse. Eytukan left them soon after, going to give the new orders to the warriors, but Mo'at remained, checking Isonali was alright. 

He could do no more than shrug a her questions, feeling wrung out and wretched. She left him with a promise to come seek her out if he needed to talk, and then turned to follow her mate. Isonali watched her go and sighed, then turned to look at Tsu'ety, finding him staring stubbornly at the doorway. "You weren't this angry with her earlier," Isonali said eventually. 

"Earlier it was not certain the skypeople were responsible for your situation," Tsu'tey replied. "She knew I did not want you to meet them, that they could have something to do with what happened to you and yet she did it anyway. She exposed you to them and put you in danger - they may try to take you back if they learn who you are."

"They could do that?" Isonali asked, cold sweat running down his back. Augustine and the others he'd met hadn't seemed so awful, most of them more interested at staring at the plants than even talking to him and yet... If it came down to it he had little doubt that the humans, maybe not Augustine herself but others, would be capable of doing such a thing.

"They could try." Tsu'ety said firmly, a steely glint in his eyes. "But they would not succeed. The clan would not let them. I would not let them."

That shouldn't have been as reassuring as it was. Tsu'tey was one man, not even a proper warrior yet, and yet he felt some of the worry bleed out of him. There was just something about knowing that if it came to the worst, as it so possibly could, that he wouldn't have to face it alone.

"Thank you." He said it so quietly he barely heard it himself, but Tsu'tey must have caught it because when he turned to Isonali his eyes were more determined expression than ever.

* * *

Despite Eytukan's decision to keep the matter quiet, the next visit of the skypeople was met with greater suspicion than usual. The clan had noticed the increase in patrols and while the murmurs remained quiet, nothing more than a bit of speculation, there was an increased tension in the clan.

Isonali himself couldn't help a sense of unease when he heard the tell tale whir of the skypeople's machines approaching from the distance. Tsu'tey wasted no time in leading him away from the main area of the hometree, innocently proposing a trip to the river. Isonali agreed, not fooled for a moment, but glad for the excuse to make himself scarce all the same. 

After the first couple of weeks the stares had faded away but now they sprung up again, not out of curiosity this time, but a shared protectiveness that seemed to have taken hold of the clan after the spread of the rumors. The clan were protective of their own at the best of times, and his situation seemed to bring that instinct out in force. It reason for it was less grating perhaps, but number of eyes on him remained uncomfortably high.

As they made their away from the ground cavern they caught sight of Neytiri heading in the opposite direction, coming to greet Augustine no doubt. Isonali raised his hand in a hesitant wave, but when she saw them she turned away silently.

Isonali let his hand fall, sighing. It had been almost a week since Eytukan's decree yet Neytiri and Tsu'tey showed no signs of making up. The angry hissing and heated accusations of that first night had left it's mark, simmering down into a cold anger that didn't die, sparking up again with glares and angry silences every time Tsu'tey and Neytiri saw each other.

Reaching the river was a relief and he was quick to take advantage of its distractions, sitting down on a large boulder and letting his feet hand into the water. Fish could sometimes be seen darting through the water, hidden flashes in the gently swaying body of the aquatic plants. 

Tsu'tey sat down beside him, following suit. They sat in silence for a moment, Isonali not sure what quite to say. Tsu'tey was still brooding over the sight of Neytiri, and when he finally spoke his voice was angry, still too stubborn, though Isonali could hear a undertone of whistful sadness. "She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions. She trusts too freely, without thinking about what it could mean - how easily they could take advantage of that."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Isonali said quietly, kicking his feet through the water and watching the current run in eddies around his calves. "And it sounds like you're more worried than angry."

"She needs to learn. If she's not cautious someone will take advantage. Her kind nature will put her at risk, put the clan at risk. She is the daughter of the Oloekytan and Tsahik - it is a vulnerability she cannot afford." He said stubbornly, as if that was all there was to it. As if she wasn't his closest friend, as if he wasn't worried how much something like that happening would hurt her. 

Isonali hummed thoughtfully. Tsu'tey a point, but at the same time couldn't imagine Neytiri that way. Perhaps she would be safer if she closed herself off to strangers, perhaps it would be safer for the clan, but she would lose her openness, her friendliness, her, perhaps naive, belief in others, and he thinks that would be a great shame. it had been all those qualities, after all, that had led to him becoming her friend back when they'd been little more than strangers.

Tsu'tey glanced up from the river, his eyes a little bit softer than before. "Don't balmeyourself for my fight with Neytiri. It's been coming for sometime, and it would have happened with or without you."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I didn't make it worse." Isonali says, admitting to what had been on his mind this last week. "And it doesn't mean I don't want to help in whatever way I can."

Tsu'tey couldn't say anything to that, so Isonali took the chance to change the topic. "I hear that the Unaltiron will be happening soon."

"Anytime within the next couple of weeks," Tsu'tey replied. "As soon as Valili is in a good position in the sky. She bears witness to the Unaltiron, and it cannot happen without her."

Isonali looked up. Even now he could see the large planet peeking over the horizon, visible even in the brightest hours of the day. Valili was the third of Eywa's four neighbouring planets, and the smallest of all of them. She was Eywa's younger elder sister, second only to Payina, the massive gas giant that sometimes filled the sky, blocking out even the sun itself. 

Each one had their own role in Eywa's story, exerting their own influence on her sons and daughters. Bininya and Payina controlled the seasons, their position sometimes dimming the world for months at a time, while Valili was the herald of the tides - perhaps not so special in the jungle, but crucial to the coastal clans. There she was revered greatly, second only to Eywa. 

"What do you think your unil'ioang will be?" Isonali asked curiously, turning back to Tsu'tey. 

Tsu'tey shrugged vaguely. "It is hard to tell. Some people are good at guessing, even young children show indications in their behavior, but you can never be certain until Unaltiron."

"But if you could choose what would you want?" Isonali pressed.

Tsu'ey hesitated, but at Isonali's expectant look he finally admitted. "Something strong. Reliable."

"An angtsik like your father?" Isonali suggested. He could still remember his run in with the herd. If Tsu'tey wanted strength then there was nothing stronger. The sheer size and muscle weight of those things was inspiring on its own, even before seeing them in full stampede.

"Perhaps." Tsu'tey admitted, not even a little embarrassed. "Or else a talioang. Even a pa'li."

"Not a predator?"

Tsu'tye shook his head. "It is true many of the warriors have such fierce spirits, but I do not think it would suit me. I am- I do not lust for battle. I want to protect the clan, protect our people, that is all."

"I can't fault you for that." Isonali said. He'd only been with the clan a couple of months and yet they had given him everything. He knew that if they ever asked - even if the didn't ask - he would do anything to protect them. It was the least he could do.  

Tsu'tey turned to him, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And you, what do you think your spirit will be?"

"I don't know," Isonali said. Then with a grin: "Maybe a kenten?"

Tsu'tey rolled his eyes. "I would not be surprised."

Isonali huffed. "It could be a palulukan for all you know." He protested, more to poke fun at Tsu'tey than anything. 

"And I will be a zize." Tsu'tey countered, completely straight faced, and Isonali couldn't laugh just imagining it. 

* * *

Barely a week had passed before the warriors were calling upon Tsu'tey and the others who had completed the Iknimaya to go collect their kali'weya. Mo'at had announced that morning that Valili would be in position in four days, and that prompted the clan into a sudden burst of preparation for the Unaltiron. Work had begun weeks ago but nobody could do much before knowing the date and now they sprang into action.

The mood of the clan rose greatly with the distraction, the troubles with the skypeople forgotten, if only briefly, and the hometree took on a general atmosphere of good cheer at the approaching ceremony. A couple of hours after Mo'at announcement drums had begun to play somewhere deep in the hometree, and they barely seemed to have stopped since, preparing for the day. 

With Tsu'tey's sudden departure Isonali was left with more free time, and he found himself seeking Neytiri out. She made one stubborn attempt to be angry with him, but it collapsed soon enough, Neytiri too glad he had forgiven her to hold a grudge against him. 

"I'm not an idiot," She said miserably. "I know that the Skypeople aren't all good, but that doesn't make them the enemy either. They're different from us. They think differently, believe different things, but that doesn't make them a threat. If Tsu'tey could just see."

"I know." He said, hedging a middle-ground. "But you can see why Tsu'tey is concerned. We don't know much about them, even with what they've told us. We don't know what'll happen in future, and there's as much a chance of them being an enemy as allies."

"Then should we not ensure they are our allies rather than drive them away as enemies?" Neytiri snapped, eye's blazing. He was taken aback by it. Neytiri's cheerful demeanor often left him forgetting that she was a force in her own right, head-strong and wild, defiant in her optimism.

Isonali could do nothing but nod. The problem was that neither of them was wrong, not really, but both were too stubborn to see it, neither willing to back down before the other. 

She left him not long after that, called to lessons with her mother. Isonali found himself without company once more, and was happy to stumble across Saheli and Tsamui heading towards the jungle. He'd been spending more time with them recently, what with Tsu'tey more and more busy with the Unaltiron preparations and Neytiri spending more time than ever at Augustine's school. 

They didn't glare at each other as much, but the air remained frosty between them, and if left Isonali in an awkward position. Saheli's and Tsamui's easy going drama was soothing in comparison. Neither of them was too worried about the whole mess with the skypeople and for the most part they didn't mention it, happy enough to bicker light-heartedly like usual and tease Tsamui about his enormous crush on the mysterious Emyi'ti.

They greeted him easily enough, inviting him to join them. Saheli wasted no time in putting him to work, as he knew she would, this time helping her collect plants to make rope. 

"There enough moping going on without you adding to it." She grumbled, ordering him back to work. Isonali didn't take it personally. This was her way of trying to cheer him up.

Together they searched through the undergrowth, collecting long waxy leaves of some flax type plants and tying them together into bundles. Tsamui sat on a low branch not far away, humming a tune as he wove some of the long dried leaves into a tight basket.

Isonali took to seeking them out more in the next few days. Tsamui and Shaeli were pleased to have him, if only for the the free labor he provided when Saheli inevitably roped him into helping with whatever she was doing that day. He welcomed the work, if only for the distraction it offered

Three days had passed and Tsu'tey and the others had still not returned. Finding the kali'weya could be difficult, capturing them without being stung even moreso, and time was beginning to run short. If they did not return by tomorrow evening the chance would be lost and they would have to wait until the end of the season for the next chance at Unaltiron. 

* * *

Isonali needn't have worried. Only hours after the very thought Tsu'tey and the warriors returned, each one with a small stone jar attached proudly to their hips. Low hissing could be heard from within and the menacing clicking of its stinging tail, flashes of red sometimes visible when the light hit the right angle through the holes in the jar.

He didn't dare put his fingers near it in case the kali'weya somehow managed to sting him through the holes, and he marveled at Tsu'tey carrying it on his side, so close to bare flesh. He'd heard about the kali'weya and their poison, a hallucinogen strong enough to send even an 'angtsik stumbling to its knees. 

Their return threw the clan into a frenzy. Everyone seemed to be everywhere, hauling instruments left and right and carrying baskets laden high with fruit and tender meats - the bounty of the talioang hunt, brought out once more for the special occasion. It had only been a couple of weeks since the last feast, but that didn't deter the Omaticaya, and they celebrated as if they had not in months. 

The air was charged with energy that night, a buzz that seemed to seep into the skin, ticking impatiently with the potential of what was to come. The fires stayed lit for hours after nightfall, people sharing stories of their own Unaltiron. Tsu'tey, tired from the last couple of days, went to bed early, hoping to be well rested for tomorrow's event. 

Isonali stayed for as long as he could, soaking up the atmosphere of it all, but even he eventually had to go to bed. He was asleep minutes after he lay down, still thinking of the Unaltiron, of the unil'ioang, and what, perhaps, his might turn out to be.

* * *

He could hear the drums before he even woke, and it only grew louder through the course of the day. 

He found Tsu'tey sitting by one of the fires. It was unusual for them to be lit so early, and then he realized they must not have been put out at all, fueled through the night so that their feet were piled with burning embers, glowing a deep orange. 

At first glance Tsu'tey looked relaxed, as if it were any other day, but as he came closer he noticed his controlled posture, the ways his hand were held carefully, consciously, loose, as if to keep from clenching them. He sat down next to Tsu'tey, greeting him a sleepy good morning, but received no reply. 

Tsu'tey was staring into the embers, face unreadable, eyes staring into a distance far beyond the fire.

A little unsettled, Isonali nudged him in the shoulder, and Tsu'tey blinked, turning as if he'd only just realized Isonali was there. "Wow," Isonali said. " You must be really nervous."

Tsu'tey frowned at him, opened his mouth like he was going to protest it, but Isonali just shot him an amused look and leaned back, spreading his legs forward to warm his feet by the fire. The morning air was chilly, still damp with the night mists. It would soon be sweltering soon enough, as soon as the run rose over the horizon the mist would vanish and the air would warm once more. 

"So?" Isonali prompted, turning to Tsu'tey. "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous." Tsu'tey admitted, only because Isonali wouldn't believe him if he tried to say anything else. "But also excited. Tonight I will become a man of the clan."

"What's it like? I keep asking, but everyone says you have to witness it yourself." Isonali asked. He'd already heard about it half a dozen times, from Ateyo, Neytiri and even Tsu'tey himself, but he was hoping that talking would help Tsu'tey calm down a little. He was wound as tight as a spring, looking ready to give way at any moment - not that he let any of it show on his back.

It was his shoulder that were telling. They were tense, drawn, and his posture was slightly straighter, more forced, than usual.  

"It is simpler than the Iknimaya in a way," Tsu'tey said. "But also more complex. The kali'weya and the eltungawng enter us into the trance, and then we begin the dream hunt. If we are successful we will find our unil'ioang, and it will present itself to us in song."

"And if you're unsuccessful?" Isonali asked. 

"I do not think anyone had ever been unsuccessful." Tsu'tey admitted. "I do not know if it is possible to fail."

"Then what are you worrying about?" Isonali asked, genuinely baffled. 

Tsu'tey shrugged, looking back towards the fire thoughtfully, and Isonali though he understood. "From what I've seen," he said, "I don't think you have anything to worry about. You do your clan proud, Tsu'tey, whatever form your spirit comes in will not change that."

Tsu'tey didn't reply, but he look at Isonali and nodded, just once, barely more than a tilt of the head, before returning his gaze to the flames. Isonali leaned back against the root, knowing there was nothing more to say. 

Still, he didn't stray far from Tsu'tey's side, not even when Ateyo came to collect him to begin the final preparations as the last of the light faded, baring Valili in all her glory in the night sky. Tsu'tey washed in the water of the river, and when he was clean and clothed once more, Ateyo detached a dagger from his belt, holding it out to him. 

"I collected the materials myself," Ateyo said, "and had La'xii craft it for you, to mark your coming of age and joining the warriors. Tomorrow, after the ceremony, you can carve your unil'ioang into the handle, and you may carve your bow from the wood of the hometree."

A horn rang out, low and loud, from the direction of the hometree, and they all turned to look. "We ought to return." Ateyo said. "The Unaltiron is about to begin."

"Thank you." Tsu'tey accepted the dagger, but on further reflection held it back out to his father. "You hold onto it. I might injure myself while in the dream hunt."

Ateyo nodded sensibly, attaching it back to his belt, and then they turned, heading back for the hometree. The crowd could be heard even from there, the entire clan gathered for the Unaltiron. The drums had given way to proper music, and the sound of reed flutes could be heard, soaring above the noise of the crowd like the warble of a bird. 

Already people were dancing, hands joined and voices rising through the air as they made merry circles around a large bonfire that had been lit in the center of the cavern. The fire rose and fell, the rising branches of flames bathing their moving bodies in orange light. Every now and then it would spark higher, creating flickering shadows that danced across the walls of the hometree, as if their spirits had left their bodies to join the dance as well. 

As he watched more people joined, coming in twos and three and linking hands until one large circle was formed. They stamped their feet against the packed ground in time to the drums, cheering and throwing up their arms with every sixth beat. 

Most of clan already seemed to be congregated at the base of the hometree with more still coming, trickling in from the upper levels. It was crowded and loud on the ground, the crowd ebbing and swaying, gaps opening here and there as people joined in the dancing before being swallowed up once more. Many lingered in the lowest of the upper levels, content to sit along the edges of the branches and watch from a calmer distance. Their eyes reflected the firelight and shone golden in the darkness, often the only thing part of them visible. 

The crowd part before Tsu'tey and Ateyo like water around stone, stepping aside to leave an almost effortless path through the throng of people. Tsu'tey strode forward unflinchingly, his back straight and tall and Ateyo a proud step behind him. Isonali trailed behind them, not quite sure if he was still needed but not knowing what else to do. 

He could retreat to one of the upper levels, watch from there, but he was strangely reluctant to. This was Tsu'tey's moment, the event he'd been working towards for years, and Isonali didn't want to miss a moment. 

Mo'at and the other hopefuls could already be seen standing near the center of the hometree on a make-shift dais, elevated slightly form the crowd. The skull of the Toruk looming over them like a great guardian, fierce and dangerous. If it was possible the crowd seemed to grow even thicker closer to the center, and Isonali found himself unspeakably glad for the circle of space that opened up before Tsu'tey and Ateyo - the crowd would have been hellish to navigate otherwise. 

A woman passed him singing and beating a small handheld drum in time with the music, and when she saw him she smiled and laughed, beating her drum in a short staccato rhythm before being lost in the movement of the crowd once more. Isonali grinned, unable to help himself.

It was like nothing he had ever seen. There was no awkward mingling, no stiff expectation to partner up and join in, just music and the unpressed chance to dance and have fun. The joy was contagious and he found himself swaying in time with the music even as he follow Ateyo and Tsu'tey through the clan. 

Tsu'tey caught him at it and laughed, mouth twitching into an amused smirk, "Having fun?"

Isonali blushed but rolled his eyes and ultimately kept dancing, starting to clap his hand in time with the music just to spite Tsu'tey. He grinned. "Definitely."

Tsu'tey smirk was a full blown smile now, reaching right up into the depth of his eyes. It was happy, breathtakingly so, and Isonali doubted he would ever forget the sight. Tsu'tey said something but it was lost in the music, reaching Isonali as nothing more than the image of Tsu'tey speaking. 

He laughed and shrugged, saying "I can't hear you."

Tsu'tey huffed and flicked Isonai with the end of his tail in response. They were passing by a group of drummers now and it was getting too loud to even try and talk. The music was deep, booming, beat against the huge hide instruments and long wooden drums, hollowed out from the trunk of a tree. The drummers grinned and laughed as they played, joining in with the cheer of the crowd. 

What had seemed like an endless trek through the crowd ended abruptly as the last of the crowd parted suddenly and left them standing in front of the dais. Isonali eyed the group and didn't step forward, staying at the edge of the crowd. He reached out and squeezed Tsu'tey's shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll do great."

Tsu'tey nodded stiffly. His nervousness was back at full force, but there was little Isonali could do to help him now. Ateyo proved an unexpected source of aid. He drew Tsu'tey into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping back and gesturing him forward. "Tsu'tey."

Tsu'tey looked at them for a moment, tension pinching his brow. But it wasn't in Tsu'tey's nature to fret and the moment passed. His brow smoothed out, grimace settling into a look of cool confidence - calm, or at least something attempting it. His clenched fists relaxed out, shoulders loosening into a smooth arch. He was ready. 

He stepped onto the dias without hesitation, not looking back as sure steps took him across to Mo'at and Eytukan. 

He was the last to arrive, the other participants already standing on the dias. As he approached Mo'at stood and within moments the music dwindled into nothing, her raised hand silencing the entire clan in seconds. The last murmurs of conversation hushed quickly, the attention of the entire crowd was fixed intently upon the dais. 

Uniltaron was about to begin.

Eytukan stood beside Mo'at, as austere and serious as ever, yet he remained silent. The Dream Hunt was a spiritual matter, one that fell within the realm of his mate's authority. Mo'at was more impressive than ever, strings of beads and bone hung over her chest, so many of them they formed a sort of shawl, and when she moved they danced in the fire light. 

When she spoke her tone was firm and clear, reaching the very depths hometree with ease. "Tonight Valili rises in the sky once more and marks the coming of the new season. Tonight our children take the final step and are born once more, joining the clan now and forever."

There were half a dozen young men and women standing on the dais. Sitting before each were the kali'weya jars, waiting for the time they'd be opened. Isonali knew what they would be used for, and he wasn't sure how he liked it. The sting kali'weya, though usually alright, could be lethal sometimes, and he couldn't help but fret a little. 

"Uhiya daughter of Naniyi, step forward." Mo'at motioned the first of them forward. A young woman stepped forward proudly. She knelt before the stone jar, accepting the glowing eltungawng worm that Mo'at pressed into her hands. It was that worm, along with the bite of the kali'weya, that would induce the trance needed to enter Unaltiron.

The tension in the crowd was almost audible, everyone leaning forward in anticipation as they waited for her to begin. Uhiya pumped her fist into the air and shouted, eliciting a wild cheer from the crowd. She grinned fiercely, eyes sharp and feline, then brought the worm to her lips and swallowed it whole. Isoanli couldn't help but grimace, his stomach turning. He was becoming more used to eating insects but still, swallowing an eltungawng worm, alive and uncooked, could not have been nice. 

Without another word she removed the lid of the stone jar and reached inside, not flinching as the hissing grew louder and more furious than before. Finally she drew her hand out, a deep black kali'weya grasped safely between her fingers. It was something between a centipede and a scorpion and it writhed in her hand, thrashing its long spined tail and clicking its sharp mandibles open and shut with brutal force. Unheeding of the danger Uhiya brought her other hand forward, closer and closer until within one vivid moment the kali'weya's tail twisted meanly around and stung her in the palm.

She let out a strained hiss, her teeth grit tight against the pain, her hand tightening into a fist around the wound. Quickly she deposited the kali'weya back in the jar, slapping the lid back on, the small clatter as she replaced the lid the only indication of the sting's effect. When she moved to sit back again she swayed uneasily, her head lolling to one side. 

Minutes passed and nothing happened. The crowd began to stir cautiously, but still she remained silent and unresponsive. Then, all of a sudden, she began to sing. 

Isonali didn't recognize the song but the clan must have, because only three words in the musicians already picked up the tune.They kept the beat unassuming and simple, easily adaptable if she veered off course and began improvising. When it became clear she wasn't going to the flutes joined in, playing a rapid interval between each of her long pauses. 

No one sang along, no one would presume to, not during Unaltiron.  

She sang of life on the plains, of following the herd, the thunder of a hundred legs and dust rising in the air, of rain hitting her back, the skies open above her. It was only near the end of the song that he realized she was singing about the talioang, startling as one of her lines finally clued him in. 

He looked to Ateyo, wanting to confirm it, but didn't dare talk while she was still singing. Eventually he put the thought aside, happy to just listen to the song, to this woman baring her very soul to them. 

The song ended when Uhiya trailed off, not stopping so much as falling deeper into the trance. An older woman, Uhiya's mother by the look of it, quickly stepped forward and helped lead Uhiya away, clearing the way for the next of the ritual's participants. 

Mo'at called each name in turn, calling forth each young men and women one by one to have their turn. Some were more nervous than others - one boy in particular unable to lift his eyes off the ground for shyness despite handling the bite of the kali'weye without even a flinch. One by one they took the bite, slumping as the toxin hit their system. And then they sing. 

What each person sang was different; some kept to preexisting songs as Uhiya had while others made up their own or mixed songs together to form something new. There was even one girl who didn't sing at all, humming her way through a melody, something deep and pondering that left Isonali thinking of life underwater, all slow currents and the smooth drag of the waves.

By the end of the third person's song Isonali admits he was starting to drift, listening to each song with a vague interest as the initial horrified anticipation faded into something more enjoyable. Ateyo stood beside him, patiently waiting for Tsu'tey's turn.

The names kept being called until only Tsu'tey was left, the youngest taking part, and then it was his turn. "Tsu'tey son of Ateyo, step forward."

Tsu'tey knelt before his stone jar as calmly as if he were simply at the evening meal. There was no fear or apprehension on his face, just stone cold determination. Isonali bit his lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He couldn't help it. It was different seeing a friend up there about to be injected with a dangerous toxin. It was like watching the first one all over again, all uncertainty and fear of something going wrong.

Isonali stood on a bed of pins as he watched Tsu'tey carefully extract the kali'weya, wondering at every moment if it would strike. When the kali'weya finally bit Tsu'tey it was almost a relief. The feeling faded just as quickly as it had come and left nothing behind but a chilling sense of guilt at every having felt it. Isonali looked down.

He looked up again just as quickly, unwilling to miss even a moment. 

Then a warm hand came down on his shoulder. He looked up and met Ateyo's clam gaze, unable to hide his troubled expression. Ateyo eye's were fond, maybe even a little amused, but most importantly they were understanding. He squeezed Isonali's shoulder reassuringly, "Do not worry, nothing will happen. Even if something does go wrong Mo'at knows how to treat the kali'weya toxin. Tsu'tey will be fine."

The toxin took effect quickly and Tsu'tey soon slumped, lax and bleary-eyed. It was odd seeing Tsu'tey be so uncoordinated, almost uncomfortable. For as long as Isonai had known him Tsu'tey had kept in strict control of himself, always so stern and serious, only letting his control slip in moments of untempered happiness when he would laugh and smile freely. It felt wrong to see him like this.

Isonali was so focused on trying to determine whether Tsu'tey was alright that he almost didn't seen Tu'sty's hand twitched against the ground. His fingers drummed a quick line across the ground while the rest of his body remained relaxed - it was so small a movement he wouldn't even have noticed it if he hadn't been looking. Then it happened again, and again, until the beat grew louder, quicker. 

His other hand slid across the ground to join the other and then he began to drum, slapping his open palms against the ground in three slow beats of two. His back straightened, eyes opening and fixing on his drumming hands with startling intensity. With every sixth beat he changed his rhythm and made it more complex, adding swift interjections and quick rising notes that ended abruptly and merged back into the main beat. 

It didn't take long for the drummers to take up the base tune, joining the slow boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom, of Tsu'tey's song. As soon as Tsu'tey had begun playing the tension had collapsed from his shoulders in a large sigh of relief, a smile spreading over his face as he finally relaxed enough to truly appreciated what was happening. The song was simple, captivating, and more complex than he'd thought Tsu'tey was possible of.

Every Na'vi could sing, even when they couldn't, but Tsu'tey had never shown any sign of being to musically talented. And yet there we was, hands drumming a beat almost faster than Isonali could follow, and he grinned, unable to help himself. 

When he looked up, Tsu'tey was staring right at him, and he stilled startled. Then, just as quickly, Tsu'tey's eyes were back on the floor, half lidded, as if never looked that way at all. 

Isonali put it down to nothing after a moment, but the thought still lingered at the back of his mind. 

Not once did Tsu'tey utter a single word during his song, but he didn't have to. The drumming said all it needed to, and Isonali realized halfway through, with impossible certainty, that it was the footsteps of a pa'li he was hearing. It was always there, no matter how complex the song got, echoed back by the drummers - six beats over and over again. 

He listened, entranced, until Tsu'tey's song finally came to an end. The beating of his hands trailed off as he grew more sleepy, finally slumping to one side, his hands stilling completely. Ateyo stepped out from the crowd, climbing onto the dais, and after a moment's hesitation Isonali followed, helping him gather up the dozing Tsu'tey and lead him off the dais. 

Isonali might have said Tsu'tey was clumsy, drugged as he was, but in truth even hazy and half-asleep Tsu'tey managed the spiral up the hometree better than Isonali did most days. His eyes may have been half-lidded, his head slumped against Ateyo's shoulders, but his feet were sure and steady, carrying him up through the hometree with only some minor swaying. 

They laid him down in his hammock and he grumbled, eyes flickering open. He stared at them murkily for a moment, his fingers twitching by his sides, and Isonali recognised the beat of six once more, tapped lightly against the hammock, before Tsu'tey rolled over, to all appearances well and truly asleep. 

"How long does it last?" Isonali asked, still watching Tsu'tey. 

"It can vary." Ateyo replied. "Usually only a couple of hours, but sometimes longer. Do not worry - the hardest part has passed. If the toxins were going to kill him we would already be dead."

Isonali shot Ateyo a shocked look, more than a little alarmed by that statement, but Ateyo did not seem concerned. He was watching his son with something like pride, a warm glint in his eye that seemed to linger. 

"Come," Ateyo said. "Let us return to the celebrations and leave Tsu'tey to rest."

Isonali hesitated, looking at Tsu'tey, but nodded. He paused for a moment before turning to go, leaning down to curve the hammock a bit more securely around Tsu'tey, just in case he rolled closer to the edge in his sleep. Ateyo was watching him when he stood, his gaze unreadable, but he said nothing.

"Come, let us go." He said, and Isonali nodded, following.    
  



	9. Bending of the Bow

His lessons with Ateyo continued as usual. Their trips into the jungle became longer as he regained his strength and with each day that passed he came to know the Omaticaya's lands better, already intimately acquainted with the areas closest to the hometree. 

These trips had a dual purpose, serving as a way for Ateyo to educate him on the plants and animals in the forests. The jungle was rich, its land fertile and green, the number of species beyond count - yet Ateyo made it his job to teach Isonali as much as he could about each one, pointing them out and explaining their uses and dangers, how to recognize them, harvest them, or treat the wounds they inflicted. 

"The psiwll and tìhawnuwll can look similar, but one is poisonous to the touch - capable of killing - and the other's seeds are a valuable source of energy. Mistaking one for the other could be the last thing you do." Ateyo said, his fingers hovering just above the wide blue leaves of just one such plant, pointing out the slight sheen along the edge of the leaf that marked it out as poisonous. "So be sure to remember."

Isonali did his best to internalize the lesson, paying careful attention to the slight shimmering. It would be easier to tell at night, when the glow was brightest, but if the two plants were put side by side he'd be able to make a good guess at which was which. "And what do you do if you touch the tìhawnuwll?"

"Wash it out with water immediately." Ateyo said, pointing at a patch of gourd plants growing on the side of a tree, vase-shaped leaves pointed directly up to the sky - ready to catch any water that trickled down with the coming of the evening mists. "Then apply ground kiyal-iyt. If you act quick enough it will removed the toxins before they can enter the blood. Otherwise you must go to the healers and be bled - the longer it's in your body the more blood it poisons."

Isonali nodded. He glanced at the plant one last time, taking a cautious step backwards. Ateyo, content that he'd learned the lesson, moved on, deeper into the forest.

He didn't think he would enjoy his lessons with Ateyo as much as he did, but the more he learned the more he came to appreciate the forest. In this patch of forest alone there had to be hundred of species of plant - and even more of insects and animals, seen and unseen in the undergrowth, each one different and unique. For each new thing he learned, another ten took it's place, and he knew it would take him a lifetime to come to know the forest as Ateyo knew it - as all the Omaticaya knew it.

Isonali ripped his eyes away from the undergrowth and hurried after Ateyo, darting under the wide swinging fronds of a eyaye and around the trailing root of a nearby tree, its side home to a stack of violet fungi that grew to the length of his forearm and seemed to expand and contract with it's own breath. 

With three light steps he darted through a patch of loreyu, not touching a single one and leaving their graceful orange spirals airing proudly in the fading afternoon light. Ateyo was watching him when he left them, last step taking him out of the loreyu, and Isonali thought he saw something like approval in your eye. 

"Tomorrow we will bend your bow." Ateyo said, already walking on once more. "It is time you started learning how to wield it."

* * *

They started early the next morning, gathering buckets of water from the lake and carrying them through the hometree, dodging working weavers and children running here and there, to the clan's only large cauldron.

It was a massive thing, carved from stone and probably weighing more than an tonne. It must have taken years to carve and it sat, the inside hollowed out in a great bowl, on a dozen slender stone legs carved directly from the stone. To light the fire beneath it you had to crawl through the legs and light it from beneath, then feed wood through the legs all throughout the night to keep it lit. It was used only occasionally when making rich soups or curing large portions of meat in salt after a big hunt.

It took a good hour of hauling buckets to fill and even longer to bring to boil and it was well into the afternoon before the first wisps of steam began to rise from the top. Ateyo had enlisted some nearby Na'vi to help set up the sturdy wooden platform around the cauldron used to climb up and work on it. From there he set up another frame, long pieces of wood and rope settling into place.

He motioned for Isonali to hand over his bow. Still straight the wood was a meter in length, which to Isonali already seemed enormous but was barely a third of the size of some of the bows used in the clan. The largest he'd seen was the ceremonial bow carried by Eytukan, which measured a bit more than three meters in length and had been handed down from generation to generation before reaching Eytukan when he became Olo'ekytan.

Ateyo placed the bow in the frame and adjusted it until it lay above the water, immersing it in the steam. With carefully placed ropes they pulled the ends of the bow towards one side of the bowl, curving it around the semi-circular stone placed in the center for just that purpose. The steam made the wood more flexible and they held it in that position, keeping it there until Isonali's arms began to strain from the tension.

The wood doesn't bend slightly and this close to the boiling water the steam is everywhere, making the experience a hot and wet one. Isonali was sweating within minutes, the force of keeping the wood bent making his arms ache. He took deep breaths, aiming to endure. He'd spent far too long working on this bow to give up now just because his arms were a little tired.

It felt like an eternity before Ateyo signaled him to release the rope. Isonali half expected the wood to spring back straight pole as soon at he let go but it stayed in place, wrapped snugly around the gentle curve of the stone. With the help of watching Na'vi they removed the frame from the top of the cauldron, waiting for it to cool before Ateyo presented him his bow, now arched in an elegant curve.

"All it is missing is a string and some decorations. You have shaped it well." And indeed, compared to Ateyo and some of the other Na'vi's bow Isonali's was plain. Carving patterns into bows was a common custom and it wasn't amiss to see them painted or decorated with little hanging beads or feathers either. He'd seen it on both Tsu'tey's and Neytiri's bows - Tsu'tey favoring simple but extensive carved patterns while Neytiri had decorated her's with a string of tiny nantang teeth that hung from it's top.

Isonali looked at his, taking in the smooth lines of wood, and wondered what he should do for his. Nothing too fancy, of course, but... This was something he'd made, himself, as part of the clan. He wanted to decorate it in a way that showed his pride in it for all to see and let the clan see just how much he cherished all the things they'd given him.

"Come, you can think about that later. "Ateyo lead him away from the cauldron. Already people were starting to gather around it, bringing ingredients to start a soup to be shared out for dinner. Let it never be said the Omaticaya were wasteful - the cauldron might have been lit to bend a bow but they'd make use of it yet. "We need to visit the hunters. If we are lucky one will have come back with some guts we can use to make the string. If not we need to ask them to bring us some next time they get a good animal."

Isonali followed him, listening with rapt attention. Perhaps even a month ago the thought of using animal guts to make bow string would have disgusted him. Now it hardly signified. Animals were a part of Na'vi life that couldn't be avoided and he'd had to quickly became desensitized or risk being sick any time anyone did anything from making clothes to preparing dinner.

They were in luck. After talking to a couple of hunter they found one who'd brought back just what they were looking for and was happy enough to offer it to them when they asked. When Isonali asked what she wanted in return she just laughed, waving him away.

"It is good someone needs it. I did not have a use for it myself but I didn't want to waste it. Really, you do me a favor by taking it."

Cleaning and processing the guts would take a while, winding them into the string even moreso, so in the mean time Ateyo offered up one of his own bow strings, deftly stringing it to Isonali's bow .

"I can wait for the other one to be ready." He said, holding his bow tightly. "There's on need to use one of yours."

But Ateyo was firm. "To make a good and strong string it needs to soak for almost a week, and then dry for even longer. There's no point in leaving your training to wait when there's a good bowstring right here." When Isonali looked ready to continue protesting, Ateyo proposed a compromise. "I'll give you this one to keep, then take the new one as a replacement. Does that sound fair?"

Isonali nodded grudgingly, finally handing over his bow so Ateyo could how him how to string it. Ateyo led him to the training fields after that, showing him through the first rudimentary steps of how to grip and pull the string, tilting his elbow up higher when it listed and positioning him at the right angle whenever began to twist too far.

"The string hasn't been used before. It will be stiff for a while before it gets used to the stress." Ateyo said as he watched Isonali rub his sore fingers, throwing himself back into the exercise with a stubbornness that would have made Tsu'tey proud.

Throughout all these exercises his wound's didn't twinge a single time, giving no discomfort save for a slight stiffness in his ankle and tightness in the skin on his lower back where the Palulukan's claws had caught him. Mo'at still checked him over every once in awhile, but his visits to the healing chambers were growing far less frequent. 

"The stiffness will go away in time," she said when he'd asked, "Stretch the muscles regularly, gently, and it should fade in time."

"And my memory?" Isonali adds, unable to help himself. "Sometimes I feel like I'm about to remember something or there are words I know but can't explain - things and concepts I've never heard of before, but it's always gone again before I can get a good grip on it."

"There is no telling. What will come will come. It is not for us to say what Eywa decides."

Isonali sighed, sinking back against the cavern wall. " I know just- I can't help but wish."

"There is nothing wrong with that," Mo'at replied calmly. "It is a difficult situation. One that must cause much frustration."

Isonali laughed humorlessly. "Sometimes it feels like half of me is missing - whole parts of who I am simply gone without a trace. It been... better. Recently, I mean. Being with the clan helps, having Tsu'tey and Neytiri around, even Saheli and Tsamui and Ateyo, makes it a easier. Like it doesn't matter as much, because they accept me for who I am, whether or not I have my memories."

"That is what clan is for. There are many terrible things in this world but war and loneliness must surely be two of the worst. The first is harder to avoid, but the clan is here to ensure no one suffers the second. You may have been alone once but now you have a hundred brothers and sisters, a hundred mothers and fathers and elders to stand by your side. Any one of them would help if you ever needed it, just as the clan would help them in turn if the role were reversed."

Mo'at helped him to his feet, walking with him down to the evening meal. He sits himself down beside Tsu'tey at their customary fire on one of the upper levels of the hometree, Ateyo and the rest of Tsu'tey's family joining them for the meal like they did every day.

His talk with Mo'at had left him feeling relieved but slightly exhausted. He'd been lingering on those worries a while and it felt good to get them out in the open once and for all. Mo'at didn't judge, a calm and impartial witness to his emotional confession. But letting go of ingrained worries like that wasn't easy and it left him feeling wrung out and tired.

He blearily accepted the stick of roasted insects Tsu'tey pushed into his hand, chewing at it blandly until his teeth met nothing but empty wood. When Tsu'tey went to offer him another he shook his head, waving it away.

"You look tired," Tsu'tey said, taking a bite of the insects himself. "Long day?"

"Sort of." Isonali mumbled, trying to suppress a yawn. It didn't work, and the attempt made his jaw ache uncomfortably. "I had a lot of things to think about."

Tsu'tey hummed, letting the conversation fade away into comfortable silence. Isonali was too tired to much of anything and he appreciated the silence. He rested his head on his hand, bracing it against his knee swayed a little, fighting back another yawn. Sitting this close to the fire he could feel the heat of the flames against his face and it was making him feel relaxed and lazy.

"Perhaps you should go to bed." Tsu'tey suggested. 

"Maybe." Isonali replied. "But I'm not sleepy yet, just tired."

Tsu'tey nodded. they sat there, listening to the crackle of the fire. A bowl of small flat grains was passed around, and Tsu'tey offered it to him in turn, but he shook his head. They tastes nice, but he couldn't be bothered with the tough chewing the grains required to get through the thick outer layer.

"How has you training been going?" Tsu'tey asked sometime later. "Father said he had just started teaching you archery."

Isonali nodded, turning his hands over to look at the blisters and bruises that had been forming on his hands. They were normal, Ateyo assured him, and once he was accustomed to the bow they found fade, not longer renewed. "We started the other day." 

"You know you can always ask me for help. Or Neytiri." Tsu'tey said, glancing at him. "It would be nice to practice with someone once more."

"Still not talking to Neytiri then?" Isonali said. Tsu'tey looked away, back towards the fire. "It's been almost a month. Surely you can't still be mad at her."

"I'm not." Tsu'tey said, frowning to himself. "Not anymore at least."

"You just can't be the one to break first." Isonali concluded with a sigh. "Because that would be like admitting you were wrong. Which you weren't-" He added quickly when Tsu'tey shot him a stubborn look, ready to defend himself. "But you know she wasn't either, right? Not really."

"I know." Tsu'tey agreed reluctantly. "You have said this already."

"And I'll say it again." Isonali countered. tsu'tey wasn't the only one who could be stubborn. "One of you is going to say something at some point, and you're both miserable as it is, so I don't see why you two are drawing it out."

Tsu'tey couldn't say anything to that. He knew Isonali war right, Isonali knew he did, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow his pride and be the one to make a first move. Unwilling to push further, Isonali changed topic. "How has Ienrra been? It's been awhile since I last saw him."

Since Tsu'tey had come back with his Ikran seeing to his welfare had become one of his daily tasks. Not that Ikran needed much taking care of. For the most part they would provide for themselves, competent hunters in their own right, but it was considered normal to visit them at least every couple of days and make sure they were not lacking anything - even just to visit them out of affection. 

"Good. I've been bringing him gifts from when I go hunting, but the great beast always seems to want more. He will eat almost anything." Tsu'tey said, then added "Though he does not seem to care for fish."

"I don't know if they normally eat fish." Isonali said. "But from what I hear some of them like it. Perhaps it is just a matter of preference."

* * *

Isonali's lessons finished early the next day, stopping just a bit before noon. Ateyo had a patrol to go on that afternoon, just a standard tour around the borders of the Omaticaya lands, but important none the less, so he had given Isonali his apologies - Isonali waving them off just as quickly - and taken his leave.

Tsu'tey was still off somewhere training and Neytiri was nowhere to be seen, so Isonali put the extra hours to work making an quiver for his bow. Ateyo had already shown him the basics, and he was reasonably confident he would be able to figure it out, so he gathered up his materials and sat himself down near the warriors training grounds - those of them not currently sparring willing to after him tips and advice when he asked. 

Sparring was perhaps one of the closest things Na'vi had to entertainment, singing excluded, and when two skilled warriors went up against each other the rest would gather round to watch, placing their bets with pieces of jewelry, materials, even carved beads and bone - whatever they had on hand. Isonali didn't take part in the betting himself, having nothing to give, but he enjoyed watching the matches none the less. 

For the most part it was bare-handed, the warriors dancing around each other, catching each other in grips and throwing each other to the ground, though sometimes weapons were used - special dulled daggers that served well enough as a prop without any risk of serious injury. Once in awhile someone would even start an archery competition and the younger warriors would take turns comparing how much they'd improved until one of their seniors came along and put them all in their place - years of experience giving them an unmatched advantage in the competition. 

"Pull that bit a little tighter." One woman said, pointing out  bit of stitching on the side of the quiver. It was little more than a couple of carefully sewn straps with a touch leather pouch at the end, made to carry only a few arrows - Na'vi never used many, preferring to collect and reuse arrows until they broke or became too blunt. Few bothered to carry quivers at all, instead tucking them into their belt, while most Ikran and pa'li saddles had their own quivers built in. 

Isonali had asked why he needed to build on if so few Na'vi even used them, and Ateyo had said it so that he knew how to make one if needed, even if he did not end up using one himself. An armguard would be a more useful tool - they were worn by almost every Na'vi - but Ateyo had not gotten around to teaching him how to build those yet. 

The woman nodded approvingly as he tightened the stitching, even going so far as to lend him an arrow or two to test the quiver. It held them tightly, keeping them still and silent even if he jiggled it about, the string at the top holding them in place. If needed it could be opened in an instant, undone with a single tug, but until then it would remain in place. He returned her arrows to her with a thank you and she nodded, grinning as one of the men sparring was thrown by the woman he was sparring. 

The fight was over brutally quick. As soon as the man was down she was upon him, twisting his arm behind his back even as he hissed and tried to lash out at her. A sharp twist of his arm and he was back flat on the ground, conceding the fight only a moment later. She grinned fiercely, releasing him and helping him to his feet. 

Despite his loss he seemed to harbor no animosity, sharing a friendly smile with her and clasping hands with a promise to win next time they sparred. Isonali was about to turn away, back to his crafting, when he noticed the woman was coming right for them. 

"Well met, sister." Said the woman who'd been helping him with his quiver, and the other nodded, wasting no time in sitting down beside them. Isonali scooted over to give her more room. 

"Di'thi gets better with every fight." She said. "But he's still not enough to beat me. He still has things to learn." 

"Good thing you are his teacher. You'll know exactly what he needs to fix." The other said with a sly smile. "One would almost think you enjoy beating the boy, the way you grind him into the dirt."

"One would think he would have learnt not to keep challenging me to spars after the first dozen times." She replied dryly. She glanced at him then, looking him over. "You are Ateyo's student. Isonali. The one they found in the forest."

He nodded. "I am."

"Word is that you learn quick. That is good. Keep it up and you shall have no lack of masters willing to train you when you choose your path. If you become a warrior I might even choose you myself."

"I'll keep it in mind." He said. "I haven't thought that much about what I'm going to do yet."

The woman shrugged. "You have a year or two left to think. I am Fi'layi and this is Ost'tsi, my sister." She motioned to the woman beside her, the one who'd helped Isonali with his quiver. "Remember my name if you choose this path." 

The woman nodded and, satisfied she'd said her piece, returned to the sparring without sparing him another glance. The Na'vi were like that, he'd noticed. They didn't waste time on small talk saying what needed to be said and not a word more. Ost'tsi on the other hand, lingered a while longer, waiting until he'd putting the finishing touches to the quiver before leaving as well to take a turn sparring. 

"Good health and fair aim, Isonali." She said, a final farewell. It was a less common phrase in the clan but not unusual amongst the warriors, and he returned it pleasantly. "Good health and fair aim." 

* * *

Ateyo had not yet returned from his patrol the next morning and was not due back until tomorrow. A proper patrol along the clan lands by pa'li could take several days when properly done, more if there was something unusual they had to look into, so Isonali got a break from his lessons.

By chance Tsu'tey also had a day of rest from his training, allowing them to spend the day in company - something that had become more of a rare occurrence these days, with both of them so busy. They met early, Tsu'tey stopping by his hammock a little while before the morning meal to pry him out of bed, which Isonali eventually did, after a good bit or sleepy grumbling.

He was still yawning and half-lidded when they made it to the ground cavern, most of the clan already up and about, the meal well underway. Mo'at and Eytukan could be seen sitting together beneath the monument of the Toruk Makto, Neytiri and Sylwanin beside them, chatting idly as they ate the morning meal.

Neytiri spotted them, and when she smiled hesitantly instead of turning away immediately Isonali counted that as a success. He waved at her, grinning, then dragged Tsu'tey along to sit beside her, giving a respectful nod to Eytukan and Mo'at as they approached.

Tsu'tey was stiff and awkward by his side, and Isonali resisted the growing urge to elbow him in the side. Instead he just sighed. Tsu'tey would get over it eventually, even if Isonali had to drag him along kicking and screaming. And he would, if it came to that. He was tired of his friends fighting.

"Good morning, Neytiri," Isonali said, accepting the bowl she passed him with a smile. He picked out one of the tiny yellow berries, slathered in something that smelled faintly sour, and popped it in his mouth. Isonali was rather proud of how far he'd come with Na'vi foods since those first days in the healing chambers. He'd become used to the Na'vi cuisine, and now only the strangest of their foods managed to throw him off, though he still hesitated a little whenever he had to eat something that was still wriggling. 

"Neytiri," Tsu'tey said stiffly, frowning like he disapproved of the whole affair. Isonali jabbed him roughly in the side with his elbow. Tsu'tey shot a glare at him, but his frown faded to something a little more neutral.

Neytiri watched their antics with amusement, her eyes bright and a small smile turning the corners of her lips, but when Tsu'tey didn't meet her eyes, still looking resolutely across the room, her expression becoming melancholic and rueful.

Isonali resisted the urge to scrub his hands over his face and sigh. Bloody hell. Taking a fortifying breath, Isonali smiled, making an effort to put the conversation back on track.

"What have you been doing recently, then?"

Neytiri perked up a little. "Mother's been teaching me more about the clan - teaching me the old histories about how the clan formed. Grace says-" She trailed off, uncertain.

Tsu'tey stiffened minutely beside him, frown returning at full force. Isonali ignored him. "What's she say?"

Neytiri flashed him a look of gratitude. "She says that the way we recount histories is really interesting. The histories are kept exactly accurate to how they were first described, memorized word for word by the singers of each generation. Mother knows them all, of course, but she says Hya'liyu knows them even better than her. He's looking for an apprentice in the new singers, someone to take his position after he passes away."

Isonali had never been formerly introduced to the song master but he'd seen him around once or twice. Even in his old age his voice was still clear as a bell, reciting songs with the delicate finesse that spoke of decades of practice.

"Does he know who he's going to pick?"

"Apparently a couple of the singers stand out, but my bet is on Ninat. She's still only an apprentice but her voice is beautiful, and she has a good memory. In a couple of years she's bound to be one of the best singers in the clan."

They talked a little more after that, just chatting about what had been happening recently. Isonali shared some of the gossip Tsamui and Saheli had told him, and though Neytiri seemed to know most of it already he did manage to catch her by surprise once or twice. Finally Neytiri asked about how his training's been going.

"Ateyo's just started me on archery. Mostly I'm still learning the forms and how to hold the bow, but he says we should get onto actually firing soon - though he'll have to show me how to make arrows first."

"That's good," She said, and the Mo'at was motioning her to come, ready to start the day's lessons. Neytiri shot them a smile, bidding them a warm farewell, though her smiles went somewhat muted when she it was Tsu'tey's turn

Isonali waved at her firmly, and Tsu'tey, finally overcoming some of his pride, even managed a somewhat friendly nod of the head. As Neytiri disappeared from view Isonali shot Tsu'tey a knowing look. Tsu'tey frowned at him, not meeting his eye. "I do not need to hear it again. I know that was terrible."

Isonali rolled his eyes but didn't say more. They quickly finished the last of their breakfast, eager to be off. Tsu'tey had promised to take him into the jungle, and with Ateyo not expected back until tomorrow afternoon they could perhaps even do an overnight trip. 

"You're sure we don't need to take anything?" Isonali asked. It seemed odd to him to leave without any provisions especially when they could well miss the evening meal but Tsu'tey didn't seem concerned. 

Tsu'tey nodded. "Many plants are fruiting at the moment. We will not lack for food if we get hungry."

"Should I bring my bow?" Isonali said. Most of the time the jungle was not dangerous if you knew what you were doing, knew what calls to listen for and how to rapidly scale the trees, but the memory of his last long trip in the jungle  stayed with him, and he well remembered how dangerous it could be. 

"I do not think it would help. You have just started learning." Tsu'tey replied, slinging his own bow over his shoulder, half a dozen arrows in the quiver across his back. he frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then untied his dagger form his belt, handing it to Isonali. "This should be some help if something were to happen."

"Are you sure?" Isonali asked. It was the one Ateyo had given him during his Unaltiron. He'd worn it every day since, keeping it faithfully by his side, and now he offered it to Isonali.

Tsu'tey nodded, holding it out further, and Isonali accepted it, tying it securely to his belt. He didn't have a dagger of his own yet but it had been one of the first things Ateyo had begun teaching him. He wasn't a master, but even the simplest moves would be of great effect if it came to a fight. 

"Thank you." Isonali said. his hand rested on the sheath, feeling the patterns Ateyo have painstaking carved into the leather. Symbols of protection, endurance, and good luck. "I'll take good care of it."

* * *

They circled the lake, heading away from the hometree, and followed the river until it plunged deeper into the undergrowth, hurtling over a low cliff and down through the layers of the jungle. It sent up a fine mist, creating condensation on nearby leaves, and they dripped with it, droplets hitting patches of mosses that hugged the rocky face of the cliff.

They took to the trees after that, Tsu'tey picking out an easy path up a nearby tree that took them out right above the chasm then doubled back, coiling around towards another tree. There was a slight jump to get to the next branch but it gave them no trouble. Plenty of vines hung freely from the branches above, well within reach if he needed a sudden handhold. 

The first layer of branches was almost a forest floor in itself, thick deposits of soil and decaying leaves along the branches playing home to a new level of growth. Ferns grew abundantly, and wherever place they were absent there was moss to take their place, carpeting the branches in a springy layer. 

The rushing waterfall was soon gone from sight, lost amongst the dense undergrowth, only the distant tinkle of water and the faint dampness on his skin left to remind them of its presence. Soon even that was gone, the path back to the hometree disappearing entirely. 

"You're not worried we'll get lost?" Isonali asked, glancing backwards. If they had not left the waterfall behind mere minutes ago he would have had no clue in which direction it lay, and even now he was starting to question himself. The jungle was busy, bustling with greenery and growing things in every direction, tangled in a maze that stretched in every direction further than the eye could see. Look away for a moment and it was impossible to find what you'd been first been looking at. 

"We are still in Omaticaya land." Tsu'tey reassured him, then added: "The hometree is to the west of us. So long as we are awake when the sun rises in the south we will have no trouble finding our way back."

"Alright then." Isonali said. So long as they were heading in the right direction they'd be able to spot the hometree. It towered over the forest, a giant even amongst the colossal trees of the jungle. they'd been wandering for several hours already but he wouldn't be surprised if he'd be able to see it even now, if he climbed above the canopy. 

There was a sort of round plant a couple of feet away from them, with bright bulbous heads at the end of long stems, each one covered in a fine layer of thin hairs. The blubs seemed to expand and contract slowly, almost doubling in size when at their largest. Isonali inspected it curiously. He'd never seen this one before. 

"Don't touch that." Tsu'tey warned. Isonali had slowly been creeping closer to the plant, his curious getting the better of him. He froze, regarding it cautiously.

"Why?"

"It'll explode if you touch it." Tsu'tey said, tone all matter of fact. He didn't even seemed phased by the idea. "The hairs are poisonous. If they touch your skin they'll make you sick, swollen, and you won't be able to move for days."

Isonali scuttled away from the plant, returning quickly to Tsu'tey's side. He didn't know if Tsu'tey was having him on but he was absolutely willing to believe him. He'd seen first hand just how dangerous jungle plants could be. "Half the time it seems everything in the jungle is trying to kill us."

"They want to live." Tsu'tey replied. "Just as much as you or I. For a predator that means hunting, for a plant defending itself - it is no different than what we do everyday."

Isonali looks back at the plant. It's expanding and contracting had grown more shallow, settling down again now that he'd move away. A warning, he realized. It had been giving him one last chance to back off before it attacked. That other tree, the thorny one that had scratched him up and down the arms, had done the same, he remembered. Everything in the jungle had to be tough in order to survive, plants included. When he looking at it in that light it was almost kind of the plants to give a warning before attacking. The Palulukan certainly hadn't extended the same courtesy.

The deeper they went into the forest the more the light faded, so much so that even then, so close to noon, faint stirrings of bioluminescence could be seen from the deepest shadows. Every now and then a wind would blow far above, rustling the canopy, and the light would shift, peeking through - banishing the ghostly light as if it had never been. 

They ate lunch high in the treetops, sitting at the fork of a large branch, nibbling on fruit as they watched a herd of yerik moving far below. They darted through the undergrowth on dainty feet, slender necks rising and heads turning at the smallest sounds, the fans on the side of their heads flaring cautiously. Something must have startled them, because the next moment they were bounding away, fleet footed and quick, gone from sight in seconds. 

Just in time, it seemed, because not a moment later a pack of nantang came slinking out of the ferns. They didn't usually hunt during the day, but the gloom must have put them in the mood because they scented the air, yipping to each other before taking off in the same direction as the yerik. 

The rest of the afternoon passed leisurely. They rested when they wanted to, feasting on sweet berries plucked straight from the plant only moments before, and spent the rest of their time exploring the jungle, climbing through the labyrinth of trees until they reached the highest branches, and then going even further. The foliage was thick and the leaves tickles the skin when they parted, twigs scraping a warning against their skin, but they didn't let it stop them, rising until they could see the sky once more, the jungle stretched out around them for miles, tangled green as far as they eye could see, rising and falling over mountains and ravines made entirely of wood and leaf. 

They followed the course of streams to their end, pooling deep in the dim jungle, so clear and cold it felt like ice against the skin and drank their fill, feeling the cold touch of the fresh water right down to their bones. There were recent tracks at the edge of one of the pools and for a time they followed them, growing more and more curious, before they lost them once more - the tracks vanishing without a trace. 

Isonali considered looking around for more but gave it up soon enough, the feeling of something hidden in the undergrowth watching them warning him off. Instead they raced back into the treetops, scrambling up vines and clambering up branches as quickly as they could. Tsu'tey beat him by a long shot, seeming to find a hand-hold wherever he looked, and Isonali took revenge by flicking him with a wet piece of leaf when he started looking too smug. 

At one point they heard the deep howl of something nearby, something large, something on the hunt, and they both went silent, retreating higher into the trees with a share glance, Tsu'tey's hand going to his bow and Isonali reaching for the dagger. They waited there in silence for minutes, hours, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest, but they heard no more from it. Whatever it was it had passed without incident, finding more prolific prey elsewhere. 

Night came before he knew it, the long hours of the afternoon vanishing impossibly fast until, suddenly, the forest was growing even dimmer, orange streaks of sunlight fading through the leaves. Soon the night glow began in earnest, moss lighting up with every step they took.

Isonali lay back, watching as the plant lit up one by one, the glow spreading through the jungle as the dusky night came into full swing. It was never truly dark, not really. Even during the deepest part of the night it remained something near twilight, the planets in the sky reflecting a pale light down on them, no where near as vigorous as the sun's rays, but enough to keep it from ever being pitch black. Every day a full moon, only a hundred times as large. 

"Did you think this was what you would be doing, all those months ago?" Tsu'tey asked. He was lying beside him, his bow at his side, in reach but out of mind. Isonali tilted his head, looking at him. Tsu'tey's eyes shone in the darkness, reflecting light like a cat, and Eywa's patterns glowed on his skin, pinpricks like star in a close sky. "One of the clan, training to take your place amongst us."

"Not really." Isonali said, leaning back to look up at the canopy once more. "When I first woke up in the jungle I thought I was going to die."

"And after that? At the hometree?"

"I don't know. I wasn't sure was I was going to do. I thought about maybe going to visit some of the other clans - maybe try and find out who I was - but that was before Mo'at and Eytukan offered me a place." He wouldn’t have last more than two days in the jungle, he knew now. If the predators hadn’t got him the plants would have. There were too many of them, all dangerous in too many nasty ways for him not to have met the wrong side of one at some point. 

"I am glad you did not leave." Tsu'tey said after a long moment's silence. Then: "I think it would have been dull without you."

"You have other friends." Isonali said, rolling his eyes. "If you ever get round to talking to them again."

Tsu'tey chucked. "Certainly none of them are as annoying as you are." Isonali huffed, but Tsu'tey wasn't done. "Or as stubborn, quarrelsome, clumsy, messy haired-"

"Better than prideful." Isonali interrupted. "Smug, bull-headed, stubborn, stupidly serious-"

"Being serious is not a fault." Tsu'tey said, sitting up. "A good man should always be serious."

"A rock should also always be serious." Isonali countered, rolling over onto his stomach. His tail flicked playfully behind him. "But you don't see me trying to imitate that."

Tsu'tey laughed, dropping back down onto the branch. "I do not see how stone could have emotions, but perhaps you are correct."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters a bit longer than usual this time :) I hope you like it!
> 
> At the pace I've been currently writing, it looks like each chapter will take about two weeks. I'll try to keep to that schedule and update regularly. Having said that, the new university term is beginning this month and I'm having to move, so that may impact on my writing. I'll try to write a bit every day, so that I'm at least working on the next chapter. So no promises, but I'll do my best, yeah? 
> 
> As always, reviews and comments are the highlight of my day. Please tell me what you liked, or didn't like, with this chapters. It's always really nice to hear what people thought.


	10. Rain

When the rains came to the jungle they lasted for weeks, keeping up a constant downpour day and night. Dozens of new streams sprang up across the forest floor, feeding into the rivers until they swelled beyond double their original size and burst their banks.

The dirt soaked up the rain almost as fast as it came, and while most drained far into underground, enough remained to leave every horizontal surface drenched and muddy. And still the rains fell, the heavy clouds content to just sit there, high above the jungle, and let the rain fall day after day.

Isonali had always been rather fond of water, swimming and the like, but even he had to admit that after the first week of rain it was testing his patience. He was tired of being completely soaked every time he so much as put a toe outside. The Omaticaya's response to the rain was interesting. For the most part they hardly seemed to notice, going about their day as if it were any other sunny day. Some people, children and the elderly mostly, stayed inside the hometree, not venturing into the rain if they could help it.

"Sickness is the greatest risk during the rain season," Mo'at said, the edge of worry to her voice belying just how much the idea preyed on her mind. "The people of the clan are strong, but-" She cuts herself off, sharp eyes turning to him. "If even one person is catches a sickness then the rest of the clan is at risk."

Mo'at and the healers were skilled at what they did, his own leg, whole and hale, was living proof of that, but sometimes that wasn't enough. Isonali thought of the rows of bowls in the healing chamber, stuffed with dried plants and animal extracts, all those different medicines and remedies. Effective, yes, but limited. Very limited. It was sickness, nor war or starvation or even jungle terrors, that was the greatest threat to the clan.

"Why risk going out in the first place then?" Isonali asked Tsu'tey later. "Wouldn't it be better not to risk it at all?"

"We'd never get anything done if we just sat around waiting for the rain to stop," Tsu'tey explained, peering out from beneath their shelter. "It takes every hunter working, every person gathering food to feed the clan. We have foods stores, yes, but they wouldn't last more than a week or two if we had to feed the entire clan."

There was nothing Isonali could say to that, and he accepted Tsu'tey logic with a nod, putting the subject from his mind. The downpour had grown even heavier in the last few minutes and the forest seeming to resound with the sound of falling water, as if even the highest and dryest trees fancied themselves waterfalls, water pouring down from branch to branch. Tsu'tey let the wash over him, unbothered, and Isonali was terribly envious. Despite his best attempts the water always left him cold and uncomfortable, and he was resigned to huddling miserably under leaves whenever he could until the rains finally stopped. For all they knew it could go on for weeks more before the cloud blew away or cried themselves dry.

"But aren't you cold?" Isonali grumbled when Tsu'tey motioned for him to come out, trying brush off the layer of water that had settled on his skin.

Tsu'tey rolled his eyes. "Stop whining. The rain is warmer than the river and you never had any problem with that."

"That's because I could get dry afterwards," Isonali said, handing going up to hold the leaf in place when it looked ready to move away under a sudden burst of rain. The leaf itself was big enough to shroud him entirely, one of those huge ones the Na'vi used to cushion their falls when dropping through the levels of the forest. It was serving well enough as a shelter for now, if not keeping him dry then at least stopping him from getting more wet. But it was all for nothing.  The moment he stepped out from under it he would be soaked again in seconds.

"Perhaps I should just stay here." Isonali grumbled. "What do you say, Tsu'tey? You could bring me food every couple of days, make sure I'm still alive as I wait out the end of the rain season."

"Now you are just being ridiculous," Tsu'tey said, and dragged Isonali out from under his shelter, ignoring his protests and half-hearted attempts at resistance. Within seconds his hair was sodden, clinging uncomfortably to his back, and he was once again dripping with water from every inch of skin. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to keep it out of his eyes, but to no avail.

"I hope you're happy now," Isonali said, tucking his arms in close to try and minimize the amount of exposed skin. Tsu'tey just huffed and walked on, leaving Isonali to squelch along in his wake.

Still, if there was one good thing about the rain it was that being confined to the tight interior of the hometree had finally put and end Tsu'tey and Neytiri's fight. These last couple of weeks their hearts hadn't been in it, Neytiri more than ready to be done with it, but Tsu'tey had been resisting. He'd held out far longer than Isonali would have expected, keeping up the fight even long after he'd forgive Neytiri, too stiff necked to admit, if not that he was wrong then that their fight had been for nothing.

Being stuck together in the hometree had finally put an end to that. Caught in close quarters with Neytiri, neither of them feeling the fight, the tension had finally broken. Washed away by the weight of the rain, Isonali thought somewhat whimsically. Isonali hadn't been the only one who'd breathed a sigh of relief to finally see the end of it.

"Come on," Tsu'tey said, waving for him to walk faster. "With everyone staying at the hometree, they need more help collecting food. There's no point just lazing around."

Isonali still grumbled but he picked up the pace, hoisting the loosely woven basket a little higher over his shoulder. It's wasn't as fine as the usual clan make, woven to leave gaps and holes, but anything else would just fill up with water, making it heavier to carry and drowning any food they put in. Not that it wouldn't already be drenched when they picked it up, Isonali thought bitterly.

The shift of leaves in the ferns to their left made them freeze, Tsu'tey going immediately for his bow. He had an arrow drawn within the second, aimed and poised to release at the first sign of attack. There was a low growl, almost a hiss, and a nantang slid out from the undergrowth, its sinuous black body sleek in the rain.

It eyed them a moment, calculating, the long rows of its teeth gleaming in the dim light, before turning away with a flick of it winding tail. Tsu'tey kept his bow cocked even after it disappeared from sight, keeping a wary eye on the surrounding jungle. The first thing he'd been taught about nantang was that they traveled in packs. If there was one, there were probably half a dozen more watching them unseen from the undergrowth.

No attack came. It had been a meeting of coincidence, the nantang not on the hunt, and passed them with nothing more than a warning hiss.

"Seems we aren't the only one put off by the rain," Isonali said once Tsu'tey finally lowered his bow, deeming the danger to have passed. "So those were nantang. I'd never seen one up close before. They were bigger than I imagined." Indeed, it had been almost two meters in length, the top of its back coming well up to the middle of his chest.

"Everything looks bigger than you think." Tsu'tey replied dryly. "You say that almost every time you see something new."

"Yeah, well, it's true." Isonali protested. "For some reason everything in the jungle is enormous. Even Na'vi, when you think about it. Ateyo is what, more than three meters tall? And he's pretty short compared to most Na'vi."

"That is a normal height. I do not know why you always expect things to be small. Most Na'vi are at least that tall."

"I know it's strange, but it always surprises me. For some reason I always think people'll be shorter. I'm even surprised by how tall I am sometimes. "

Tsu'tye shot him a curious look. "That is indeed puzzling. Perhaps it is because skypeople are so small? You must have been with them a long time for it to affect your thinking."

Isonali shrugged silently, unsettled at the turn of the conversation. What it was that had happened between him and the skypeople was a mystery, the possibilities sounding increasing bad with each new piece of information that came to light. "Maybe," he admitted uncomfortably, then refused to say more on the subject, happily picking up a new line of conversation when Tsu'tey offered one.

They made good progress like that, wandering around collecting fruit and insects when they spotted them. Tsu'tey even managed to shoot a small yerik that they spotted, hitting it's shoulder and then putting an end to its misery with a mercifully slide of his dagger through the operculi along its neck and into it's heart. Carrying it back to the hometree was a chore and a half, mainly because it meant walking back along the ground rather than through the trees, subjecting them to the thick carpet of mud and many trailing streams.

By the time they'd dropped it off at the clan and headed off again they were covered knee deep in mud. It sat on their legs like a second skin, heavy and suffocating, with the rain doing little to wash it off.

As they passed by the river, now risen so high that even the largest of the boulders that usually poked up above its surface were submerged, Isonali shrugged off his basket, hanging it up on a nearby branch, and started to strip.

Tsu'tey stopped, turning to watch him, "What are you doing?"

"I might as well wash properly. It's not like I'm not already wet." Isonali said, stripping off his wet clothes, eager to get in the water and be free of the mud. He didn't bother being embarrassed by the nudity. No one else in the clan seemed to possess much of sense of modesty when it came to nudity, with even the women walking around topless half the time, and he'd been forced to get used to it or spend all day staring at the ground.

"Perhaps that is not such a bad idea," Tsu'tey said, hanging up his bow and quiver like Isonali had done and starting to undress. There was little chance of being attacked by animals in this part of the river. It was too close to the hometree, too often frequented by Na'vi to be an attractive drinking spot, especially since there were other less occupied rivers littered all throughout the jungle, and even more so than usual due to the rain.

The first touch of water was a cold shock against his skin, but after a few moments the sensation faded and he was was left enjoying the cool flow of the water.

He swam a bit up and down the river, holding his breath beneath the water for as long as he could and just letting the current carry him along. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sting of the water, but when they did he couldn't help but smile to himself. The river was like a whole other world with its own strange plants and animals, all of them ruled by the ebb and flow of the current.

In the corner of his eye he could see the flash of fish hidden in the reeds, dark shapes against the glow of the plants, bright despite it being barely past midday. Long aquatic reeds glowed gentle shades of pink as swayed from side to side, at the mercy of the current. He turned over and lazily kicked his feet, admiring the sight of the raindrops hitting the water's surface from below. The usual lily pads were absent, long swept away by turbulent waters. A shame - their undersides had the most interesting circular patterns, no two the same, glowing a dainty blue even beneath the hottest noon sun. 

A splash to his left indicated Tsu'tey had joined him in the water, and Isonali turned to grin at him.  His lungs were starting to strain for air and he paddled upwards, head breaking the surface with a gasp. Tsu'tey followed a moment later, shaking his head slightly to get his wet braids out of his face.

"It's colder than usual." Isonali grumbled, kicking his feet just enough to keep him afloat.

"It is because there is no sun. Without it there to heat the water, of course it is cold." Tsu'tey said, amused. "You should not have gone in if you didn't like it."

"No," Isonali said. "It's fine."

"Then stop complaining," Tsu'tey said sternly. He might have sounded annoyed, but Isonali was coming to know him well enough to recognize his amusement. Tsu'tey had a way of looking constantly disapproving, even when gleeful. You just had to look past all the frowning.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Isonali said, letting himself drift over to a nearby rock. It was almost completely submerged beneath the water, but it still served well as a seat, letting him make a concentrated effort to scrub away all the mud without having to flail around in the water.

Sitting out of the water meant he was prey to the rain, but the damp pattering of the rain against his skin didn't prompt the same annoyance as before. Maybe it was because he'd been swimming. It was less annoying to be wet when it was for a reason.

While he was at it he undid his braid, sinking deep enough back into the water to let it spread out around him. The water was cool and clean, though perhaps a little murkier than usual, and Isonali made the best of it to rinse out his hair, using his fingers to comb out the flecks of mud and other bits and pieces that had somehow reached his hair, little bits of bark and moss that inevitably came with hanging around in the jungle.

When he was done he didn't bother braiding it back up, dumping it in a loose tail. It would be a nightmare braiding his hair wet and he wouldn't be able to get it anything close to dry until getting back to the hometree. Tsu'tey was doing the same on a nearby rock, though with much more success. Since Iknimaya he'd kept his head shaved, keeping only the main queue and a few smaller braids.

"I'll keep this hairstyle until I have joined the warriors, then I will be able to use their style." Tsu'tey had said proudly, and he was right to be proud. Hair style were one of the common, though not universally followed, ways of distinguishing rank and profession in the clan. Individual braiding patterns sometimes even denoting age, mating status and number of children. To be able to wear the warrior style was indeed an honor.

Isonali, meanwhile, was still stuck with the same style at the rest of the children, Neytiri included. He wasn't put off. There were dozens of different braid types in that category, more than he'd ever get around to learning, many more complex than he was even capable of doing. 

Getting out of the river wasn't nearly as fun as getting in. Drying themselves off was impossible thanks to the rain, leaving them to tie their wet clothes back onto damn skin. The sensation was uncomfortable, cold, and damp. A firm reminder of why he hated all the rain so much. 

He shivered a little, the water settling a chill on his skin despite the warm jungle air. "C'mon. I want to get back to the hometree and dry off."

Tsu'tey grabbed his bow and quiver, them back onto his back. Isonali was already hurrying on, making a beeline to the nearest low tree so that he could get off the ground and escape the endless mud. In his haste he over-stepped, a wet patch of dirt giving way beneath him. It was only Tsu'tey quick reaction that stopped him falling face first into the mud.

Tsu'tey hauled him back, dragging him safely out of range of the mud. In a few careful steps he'd darted around it, using rocks and plants as footholds to avoid dipping so much as a toe in. "One would think you enjoy being covered in mud." He said, "The way you always head straight for it."

Isonali grumbled, but copied him, picking his way carefully across the ground before scrambling gratefully into the safety of the trees. The branches were slippery to the touch and the moss sodden with water, making traveling through the treetops more perilous than usual. They kept up a comfortable silence on the walk back, Isonali more than occupied making sure he didn't fall off the branch every time the moss released great streams of water beneath his feet, like sponges being wrung out.

Finally stepping into the dry interior of the hometree was a relief, and Isonali wasted no time in plonking himself down beside the nearest fire. He brushed off the worst of the water, flicking it off in sheets, then shuffled in a bit closer, enjoying the heat of the fire against his skin. It was almost too hot, and it was perfect. He could almost feel himself drying centimeter by centimeter, and he leant into the feeling, holding his arms out so they would dry faster.

He almost, almost, felt like a person again instead of a soggy piece of dirt. Being dry was a bliss you never realized you had until you'd spent weeks constantly wet. 

Tsu'tey didn't go to such extreme lengths, sitting a more reasonable distance from the fire and letting it dry him slowly. Half a dozen other Na'vi were doing the same thing at various fires around the hometree, chatting together as they waited to dry.

He dragged his braid over his shoulder, letting it loose and combing his fingers through it to help it dry faster. Klethayi had given him a comb at one point, a lovely thing made of carved bone, but it was hanging up in the bag by his hammock along with his spare set of clothes and other few possessions. He considered running up to get it but the thought of leaving the fire defeated him.

Languishing next to the fire had returned his energy and, in a fit of good mood, he set about making one of the slightly more complicated braids Klethayi had taught him. The style itself didn't look like much, keeping to the typical single large braid, but it's make up was different. He split his hair into almost twice as many strands as his usual braid demanded, pulling them in and around each other in dizzying combinations, slowly tightening them to form the sleeve that encased his tswin.

By Klethayi's standards the difficulty of the braid wasn't worth mentioning, but it was at the limit of what Isonali could manage. He struggled to keep track of most of the strands, almost losing a couple more than once. He tied off the end with a breath of relief, feeling a faint sense of accomplishment when he looked over his work and found no stray and forgotten locks escaping. From a distance it was probably indistinguishable from a normal braid, but Isonali didn't mind. He didn't do it for the look of it. It was the texture that he liked about this braid, the way the composition formed a different pattern of bumps and links when he ran his fingers over it.

He settled back with a content sigh. He'd have to go outside again at some point soon, but for now he'd savor the satisfaction of being dry.

Idly he fiddled with a twig, scratching some lines in the dirt. They were aimless scribbles at first, but it got Isonali thinking. He made a line of little dots, stick scraping along the ground as he tried out a couple of random geometric patterns.

"What are you doing?" Tsu'tey said, leaning over to get a better look.

"I was thinking about decorations for my bow." Isonali explained, tracing a couple of lines near his knee. He pointed his stick at the line of dots, grinning. "That one's the rain."

Tsu'tey hummed, peering at the drawings. As Isonali knew he would, Tsu'tey's eye's veered towards the geometric patterns, inspecting them curiously. Tsu'tey had a fondness for them, his own bow proudly displaying more than one. They were solid, simple things, all bold lines and repetitive patterns. It suited him, Isonali thought, more than the flowery and complicated designs some Na'vi favored.

Isonali scribbled out another few ideas, mainly just simple lines with different levels of width all arranged together. One of the larger squiggles caught his attention. It sort of looked like an animal, a snake, coiled up around something. All it would need was a skull and-

Unsettled, Isonali quickly rubbed out the pattern. He didn't know what it meant, but it gave him a bad feeling. He turned to his other patterns, trying to put it out of his mind. He lingered on one particular idea, a simple arrangement of straight bands. That would look nice just above the grip. Perhaps in yellow and red?

"I am going to visit Ienrra," Tsu'tey announced, rising from his place by the fire. He shot a questioning look at Isonali, still doodling in the dirt. "Do you wish to come?"

Isonali brushed away his designs, discarding his stick into the fire. "Of course."

The Ikran were perhaps the only creatures as miserable in the rain as Isonali. The heavy downpours made it hard to fly, weighing them down and obscuring their vision. And if that wasn't enough, the thin membrane of their wings left them susceptible to the water's chill, leaving them grouchy and uncomfortable even in the relative shelter of the hometree's upper branches.

The roosts in the floating mountains were different apparently. There the rock was riddled with caves where they could take shelter, and if that failed they simply hid beneath the hovering bulk of the mountains, clinging on like bats to the underside of the rock. In comparison, the half-hearted shelter offered by the leaves of the hometree was meager at best.

Tsu'tey had taken to visiting Ienrra daily to console him, bringing him treats from the hunt to try and lift his spirits. It didn't seem to do much good. Ienrra was always bad tempered and snappy either way, but it made Tsu'tey feel slightly better and Isonali supposed that was reason enough to keep doing it. Still, whenever he visited, Isonali couldn't help the sneaking suspicion at Ienrra liked seeing Isonali was just as miserable as he was. 

They stopped by the food stores on the way up. The yerik Tsu'tey had brought in earlier was still there, hung up with the rest of the meat being readied for the evening meals. The Na'vi cooking were happy enough to let him take a leg when he explained what he was doing, especially since he'd been the one to bring it in.

"Wise boy." One commented, his approval clear. "It is a good man who cares for his Ikran and appreciates the gifts Eywa has given."

The sentiment was echoed by the other Na'vi in nods and murmurs. Within minutes they had the leg wrapped up and ready for transport, promptly presented for them to take. Isonali let Tsu'tey carry it, it being his Ikran and everything. While he becoming used to the Na'vi's hunting lifestyle and what it entailed, he still wasn't quite so comfortable with fresh raw meat that he wanted to carry pounds of it up and down the hometree.

Tsu'tey shot him a look, holding it out as if offering to let him carry it, but Isonali stepped back, holding up his hands. He grinned, all too happy to refuse. "I'm fine thanks."

Tsu'tey shrugged, content to carry it himself, and balanced the leg on his shoulder. The yerik leg, though large, was a manageable weight, if slight awkward to carry. "You had no problem helping me carry the whole yerik back to the hometree earlier."

“That had skin." Isonali hopped up onto the central spiral. Tsu'tey followed a second later with a soft grunt at the added weight of the leg. "This is an entirely different kettle of fish."

"Kettle?" Tsu'tey asked. He stepped out of the way a little to let a passing Na'vi slide by, disappearing down the spiral in the opposite direction. "You say the most odd things sometimes."

"It just means it's something different." Isonali explained. "Though now that you say it, it does sound a bit odd. What do fish even have to do with making tea?"

"But what is a kettle?" Tsu'tey asked, still baffled.

"It's like a pot you boil water in, except it has a little snout so that you can pour it without burning yourself." Thinking of it, Isonali wondered where the concept had even come from. The Na'vi used no such instrument and he was certain it wasn't something he'd made up himself. Isonali put it down as another mystery lost with his memory and left it at that."You use it to make hot drinks, tea mainly, by seeping leaves in the hot water."

"You should make one. I do not know these 'teas' of which you speak, but surely the tsahik would find it useful."

"Maybe," Isonali agreed. "But I'd have to make it out of stone so that it doesn't catch on fire, and I've only just started wood carving. I'm hardly an expert."

"My father will show you how to carve stone eventually." Tsu'tey hoisted the yerik leg a little higher, grimacing when it moved one of the leaves shifted and exposed the meat to his bare skin. He paused, pulling it back into place. "You'll have to make a stone jar for your kali'weya when it's time for your Unaltiron."

"You didn't have to." Isonali said. "I mean, you didn't mentioned anything about making one."

"I inherited my fathers. If he didn't have one I would have used my mother's."

"And that's not an option with me." Isonali finished, saving Tsu'tey from floundering silently trying not to say it. Tsu'tey knew the issue of his memory stilled nagged at him, and he did his best not to bring it up but sometimes it was unavoidable. 

As they approached the roost the branches became narrower, tangling together to the detriment of the relatively straight paths boasted by the lower levels of the hometree. Tsu'tey had managed well enough carrying the meat up until then, but now Isonali had to pitch in here and there to help him maneuver it safely up through the branches.

For all his former complaints, Isonali didn't mind. Tsu'tey was his friend, if he wasn't worth handling a little raw meat for then what was? Isonali caught himself on that thought, realizing the utter ridiculousness of the entire train of thought. This is what the Omaticaya had done to him: he was valuing his friendships in his willingness to touch raw meat for them.

He gave a quiet huff of amusement at that. Thankfully Tsu'tey didn't ask. Isonali didn't know how he'd explain that train of thought. They finally broke free of the smaller branches, ending Isonali's part in helping with the raw meat as they entered the roost proper. A large branch bend away from the trunk, the main support of the roost, and a tunnel through to the hometree had been made, providing easy access. 

Isonali hung back a little, looking around. Most of the Ikran were hidden away in the foliage in the higher levels, doing their best to keep dry, but those on display were enough to invoke awe. Isonali didn't think he'd ever get over the sight of them no matter how many times he visited the roost.

Tsu'tey let out a sharp whistle, announcing his presence. Several Ikran turned to look but, seeing he was not their rider, turned away again, rendered lazy by the rain's chill. A shriek from above answered Tsu'tey's call and Ienrra came diving out of the higher branches. His wings flared out, catching him at the last moment and setting him down smoothly on the branch in front of Tsu'tey.

Ienrra spotted Tsu'tey's gift with a happy hiss, head weaving forward on his long neck to inspect the leg. Deeming it good, he made a motion for it, mouth opening wide, and Tsu'tey threw it towards him. Ienrra snapped it up in midair. There was a sharp crack of bone as he sank his teeth into it, bringing the full force of his powerful jaws to bear, then in a quick motion, not unlike a snake, he tilted his head back and guzzled it down, swallowing it whole.

An unsettling sight perhaps, but Isonali couldn't look away. Any other creature and he would have been disgusted, or at the least a little grossed out, but this was an Ikran. Seeing Ienrra now, like this, all he could think was that Ikran were powerful hunters, able to navigate even the tightest confines of the jungle with pinpoint turns and unmatched arial precision. They were the epitome of aerial hunting, unmatched save by their cousin the Toruk.

Yes, Isonali thought, regarding Ienrra, they were creatures to be admired.

This wasn't the first time Isonali had accompanied Tsu'tey in visiting Ienrra, and he knew the rules of the affair well by now. He stayed well back, giving Ienrra space, waiting for Tsu'tey to invite him closer before taking even a single step forward. The whole time he kept his eyes low, making sure not to meet Ienrra's gaze.

Tsu'tey motioned for him and Isonali came forward, stopping a little distance away. Ienrra shot him a condescending look, long neck winding around Tsu'tey shoulder so that he could peer at him distrustfully. Tsu'tey's lip quirked, raising a hand to Ienrra's neck and rubbing at the spot where his long antennae joined his skull. Ienrra's eyes flickered, clear eyelids opening and closing as he leaned into the touch.

In a practiced movement, Tsu'tey connected their twsin, forming the bond. They wouldn't go flying today, not with the weather as it was, but that didn't matter. It was a way of reaffirming their bond and checking on each other, ensuring that Ienrra was happy and in good health.

"I'll never get over seeing you do that," Isonali said. As one, Tsu'tey and Ienrra turned to look at him. Isonali tried not to let it unnerve him.

"I've never seen anyone who admires Ikran as much as you." Tsu'tey commented. "I think, if you could, you would take them all for yourself."

"I wouldn't go so far as that." Isonali said, blushing. He hadn't done anything to hide his admiration, but he hadn't thought he'd been as obvious as that.  "They're just- Cool. That's all."

"Cool?" Tsu'tey replied dryly.

Isonali didn't back down. "Epic. Inspiring. Whatever you want to call them."

Tsu'tey turned to Inerra, his eyes going soft. There was a note of pride in his voice when he spoke. "I cannot argue with that. Ienrra is indeed one of the finest creatures I've seen."

Ienrra preened at that, a soft growl vibrating through the openings of his oppurculli.

"You'll have an Ikran of your own soon enough," Tsu'tey shot him a sideways look. "You already like Ienrra and the other Ikran so much, they that would bite you if they had the chance. It will be amusing to see how you handle one of your own."

Isonali lingered on the thought. An Ikran of his own sounded... more than nice. Exciting. Amazing. Seeing Tsu'tey and Ienrra, he envied the closeness between them, only able to imagine it. But it was more than that. The thought of flying, of gliding through the air, of being truly free in a way he so rarely had the chance to be...

That was something worth working for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the next chapter of VtI two weeks later. I've done my best to weed out mistakes but if any have slipped past me then just tell me and I'll fix them up. Also, if anyone is capable and/or interested in being a beta for this fic then message me (either PM on FF.net or on tumblr, my username is the same for both). I've been thinking about getting one for a while, so I thought I might as well ask if any of you are interested. 
> 
> As always, reviews are appreciated! Please leave a comment and tell me what you particularly liked or disliked or what you think I could maybe do better. Have a nice day :)


	11. Learning Curve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added a bunch of new chapters recently. If you haven't read it in a while I'd suggest going back. I got a bit carried away and added new scenes here and there in old chapters, and chapter 3 is entirely new material. Bit of a mess, to be honest, but you guys know well by know that I go back over this story quite often.

The arrow landed on the ground with a dull thud, several meters off the target.

Isonali resisted the urge to groan in frustration. He fitted another arrow on his bow and took aim. His arm shook as he pulled it back, muscles trembling with the strain of it, and he took a deep breath, steadying his shaking arms as best he could and holding the arrow in place. 

One deep breath in, another out, just the way Ateyo had taught him. With the inhale he pulled the arrow tight, till he could feel the arrow's fletching brush his cheek. 

Exhale. Release.

The arrow arced through the air, swift and straight for a single proud moment before it began to shudder, tumbling off course. It landed in the dirt amongst its fellows, the last in a line of failed attempts. Not a single one had reached the tree, save one which skimmed it's roots before burying itself in a patch of ferns.

Isonali reached for another arrow, but his hand closed around empty air. He'd made a good dozen arrows under Ateyo's tutelage in the last week and each one now lay buried in the dirt. With a sigh he shucked his bow and went to collect his arrows. Some lay scattered in the dirt, others hidden in the undergrowth, and it took a moment's searching to find them.

His lesson with Ateyo was technically supposed to be this afternoon, but Isonali had wanted to put in some practice. Ateyo had been teaching him the fundamentals for almost a month now, but only two weeks ago had they moved on to actually firing. His first lessons had been dismal, half of the arrows had fallen from the bow as he went to draw, and the other half had barely made it a meter when he did manage to fire them. Ateyo had assured him he was making good progress, but Isonali didn't see it. Hours of practice this morning and he was no better than when he started.

His lack of progress was disheartening, and Isonali was starting to come to the dismayed conclusion that he was simply bad at this. Everything else in the clan seemed to come quickly enough, or at least with some visible progress, but not this. No, in this he was truly stuck.

He would have asked Tsu'tey but he’d been dragged off by the hunters for a patrol trip a couple of days ago and had yet to return. Neytiri was nowhere to be found when he went looking for her, probably at the school, visiting Augustine and the skypeople. Any other place and Isonali would have gone and fetched her, but the thought of meeting the skypeople again left him uneasy. From what he’d seen the skypeople themselves didn’t seem that bad, but he'd never feel comfortable with any sort of closeness with them, as Neytiri had managed. No, better not to get involved. 

Just the thought of it was enough to put him in a bad mood, dredging up the whole awful mess all over again. It didn't help that he still felt faintly guilty over the Omaticaya's worsening relations with the skypeople and that thinking about the skypeople inevitably led him back to thinking about his lost memory, which never failed to put him in a foul mood, frustrated and whistful in equal parts.

At the same time he couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved that for once he wasn’t the center of trouble. The Omaticaya’s issues with the skypeople had started long before he arrived, and would likely have continued regardless of his involvement. 

His fingers stilled, still buried in the ferns where he'd been rummaging around for his last arrow, and Isonali sighed. Really, he wasn't having a good day today at all, was he?

He found the last arrow hidden among the roots and slid it back into his quiver. It had served him well in the last week, a handy place to store his arrows when hung up beside his hammock. He headed back to his position in the training field, black mood following him like a cloud, and got back into stance, painstakingly arranging himself like Ateyo had shown him. Still fuming, he drew an arrow and lined it up.

Practicing made him feel a little better, if only because it gave him something else to think about. As he slowed his breathing, preparing for the shot, he seemed to lighten a little, some of the negativity falling away. The arrow took off promisingly, the bowstring only leaving a slight sting against his inner arm where it flicked against his skin. Isonali rubbed his arm, wincing at the bruises forming there, and looked to see where the shot had landed.

The arrows was imbedded in the ground right before the roots of the tree. It was probably his best shot so far, though nothing to be proud of when compared to Tsu'tey and Neytiri's archery.

"You look like you could use a hand," Someone said. Isonali turned to see Sylwanin standing behind him, leaning against one of the sloping roots of a tree.

"I-" He considered refusing, insisting he was fine, but it was obvious even at a glance that wasn't the truth. He sighed, abandoning his pride. "Um. Yeah."

She smiled knowingly and approached, her own bow visible on her shoulder. It was almost twice the size of Isonali's, one of the biggest makes of bow used by the clan. Only Eytukan's ceremonial bow was larger, and that was a colossal thing - double stringed and made to punch an arrow through solid stone. Isonali didn’t even want to think of how much weight it pulled. 

"Brother Isonali," Sylwanin greeted, touching her fingers to her forehead."I see you."

"I see you, Sylwanin." Isonali returned. They’d been introduced before, of course, but he couldn’t say he’d spent any real time with her. She was Neytiri's sister, next in line to be Tsahik, and from what he’d heard she was considered one of the best archers in the clan. That alone said something about her, but her character beyond that was a mystery. "Thanks."

"Draw again," Sylwanin said. "Let's see what your doing wrong."

Isonali obediently got into stance, a quick glance sent towards his feet to make sure his footwork was right as he pulled an arrow taut on the string. Sylwanin nodded, making a minor adjustment to the tilt of his hips. When he drew the arrow she made a noise, something of a tutting sound, and corrected the position of his elbow, pushing it upwards firmly.

"Careful," She said. The new position made his arm tremble with the extra strain, and Isonali fought to hold it. The patchwork of bruises up his forearm all the more noticeable for the new stance and Sylwanin glanced at them, expression unreadable. 

The position was uncomfortable to start with, but with each shot he fired it only seemed to get worse. Sylwanin had no mercy, ordering him to continue long after his armbegan to tremble in earnest, making small adjustments here and there until she was satisfied. More than once he let the position slip a little and got hit by the string as it released, hitting the already malicious band of bruises.

"Keep it straight or you will continue to get hit.” Sylwanin said, turning his arm so that his elbow was rotated straight. The string didn’t hit him again, but the bruises were already deep and ached fiercely nonetheless. “Good. Your stance is almost acceptable. "

Isonali didn’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment. With Sylwanin it could be either. Then again, almost acceptable by Sylwanin's standards might be a compliment. She would accept nothing but th best. Ateyo had been working him on his stance for a good couple of weeks and he’d always seemed content with Isonali’s progress. 

Isonali did as she directed, focusing on keeping his arm straight. He held the position until his arms started to trembled, until his muscles burned and his breath came in pants, sweat gathering on his brow, and then even longer. He held it until finally Sylwanin's eyes narrowed and she ordered: "Release.”

Freeing the arrow was a relief in itself. Isonali arm’s fell, slumping to his side. He didn’t try to fight it, far too sore to bother with pride. The tight prickle of pain up and down his arms was excruciating even after he released the tension. And his shoulders. He didn’t even want to think about the aching in his shoulders. Isonali had trouble remembering if he’d even bothered aiming. It had taken all his concentration just to hold it. 

But when he looked the arrow was stuck high in the trunk of a tree. Not the tree he'd been aiming for, admittedly, but it's height several feet off the ground was more than enough to make up for that.

"You lack strength," Sylwanin said, prowling across the clearing to retried the arrow. It came out of the wood easily, barely having cut into the thick bark. "It is why your arrows do not hit their target. They fall before they have the chance to fly."

"How do I fix it?" Isonali asked.

She held out the arrow. Isonali regarded with with dread, wanting nothing more than to roll over and not move an inch for the next year. "Do it again. Your muscles are weak. They are unused to the strain of the bow, unused to the movements. Practice is the only solution."

His fingers were stiff and sore, the bruises up his arm painful to even look at. more practice was the last thing he wanted. But... Isonali reached for the arrow, slotting it to his bow once more. His arm trembling like a leaf in a storm as he pulled the string back. Isonali grit his teeth and bore through it, pulling back through the pain until the arrow was as far back as he could get it. The string cut into his fingers, sweat poured down his brow, and it felt like he was going to break a bone with the effort it took keeping the arrow in place. 

"Good. Don't worry about the aim. Hold that for as long as you can." Sylwanin said. Isonali resisted the urge to snap that it was easier said than done. Instead he summoned up every ounce of bullheaded stubbornness in his body and did as she said, holding the bow taunt even when it started to feel like he'd put his arm in the fire, his mucles burning fiercely.

His hand started to slip, weight of the string dragging him back towards the grip. Isonali sucked in deep breath, holding it until his lungs strained, and pulled the arrow back into place. Slywanin eyed him. There was something almost approving her eyes, though Isonali was in no state of mind to care. He was still waiting for her order, every moment she remained silent feeling like an eternity to his straining arms. She waited right until the strain started to overcome him and his breath came in harsh pants, and then, with one firm word, ended his suffering.

"Release."

Isonali barely felt the arrow leave the string. His arms collapsed to his side, bow dropping to the ground with a twang, and it was all Isonali could to do to breath and try to blink through the sweat dripping in his eyes. He was exhausted, more wrung out and sore than he'd ever felt before. Even climbing the hometree from bottom to top, a strenuous activity at the best of times, seemed like nothing more than a walk in the park compared to this.

Every movement was agony. There was a deep ache in his muscles, powerful and throbbing, that flared up again at the slightest movement, promising hell when he woke up the next morning. Sylwanin reached out, steadying him.

"That was well done." She said, smiling proudly, not seem to notice that he was about two seconds from falling over completely. She pointed off into the forest. "Look where it landed."

Isonali blinked, trying to focus on where she was pointing. He couldn't see his arrow anywhere.

"Exactly." Sylwanin said. She ignored his pained noises, dragging him across the clearing to go rooting around in the forest for his arrow. Isonali struggled not to trip over every step, clumsier than a blind angtisk. He made a vague effort to look for the arrow. It mainly consisted of leaning against nearby trees and half-heartedly scanning the undergrowth.

Sylwanin let out a triumphant shout when she finally found it, dragging him over to see. It was lodged deep in the trunk of a tree almost a dozen meters beyond his initial target at the edge of the clearing.

"Good work!" She said, slapping him on the shoulder, ignoring the way he flinched when it made his entire arm sizzle with agony. "You'll do better tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" Isonali asked hopelessly. Sylwanin grinned at him.

* * *

Sylwanin continued to come to the rest of his archery lessons, showing up as if she'd been there all along. Ateyo didn’t say anything about it, content to step aside and let someone more skilled take over Isonali's tutoring. Sylwanin seemed to have a sixth sense for archery, managing to track him down whatever the time of day if he so much as even considered practicing.

His lessons with her were no easier than the first. If anything they got harder. Everyday Sylwanin pushed him to do a little more, to try a little harder, hold it a little longer. She lived and breathed archery, and seemed to expect him to do the same now that she’d taken him under her wing. Not a moment in her company was spent wasted. When not practicing it was the main topic of her conversation, and in the few times he saw her doing something else her bow was not far, slung over her shoulder or sitting by her side.

Isonali could see how she had become the best archer in the clan.

Neytiri just gives him a pitying look when she found out, laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Isonali got the feeling she was secretly laughing at him. He eyes were far too mirthful for how utterly miserable he felt.

"It is a great honor to learn from someone as skilled as Sylwanin." Was all Tsu'tey said, all seriousness. And while might Isonali groan and complain about his soreness and recurring array of bruises, he secretly agreed.

Ateyo had been a good teacher, patient and thorough, but he was happy to let things develop at their own pace. More often than not it had been Isonali coming to him asking for longer and more frequent lessons. Sylwanin was the opposite. If she could she would have had him practicing every moment of the day. She didn't let things rest. She pushed, and she pushed hard.

It was exhausting, painful, and downright impossible at times.

But the first time Isonali hit the target, his body aching from deep bruises and his arm feeling like he was going to fall off, but the arrow just where he'd imagined it hitting... It was the best feeling in the world, and Isonali loved it.

"Your aim is surprisingly good." Sylwanin had said when he turned to her, grinning ear to ear. That from her was worth any number of praises from anyone else. Her compliments were rare, praise even moreso when it came to archery, and to earn even that small comment was an accomplishment in itself. "Now do it again, from further away this time."

More than once Sylwanin worked him so hard that when Ateyo came to find him for his lessons he took one look at him and canceled their plans, instead forcing him to do a long series of streatches before bustling him into the hometree to, choosing to educate him on clan politics instead of tracking in the forests. 

"Do the stretches once more before you go to bed." Ateyo warned at the end of their lesson. Isonali had paid attention the best he could, usually interested in the long history of interaction between the clans and the stories Ateyo had to share of them, but he'd found himself close to dosing off once or twice. Ateyo must have known, though he didn't say anything, letting Isonali off without rebuke.

Even after the second set of stretches he felt like death the next morning, swearing to every hell that he wouldn't never never train with Sylwanin again. He feared he'd probably die for good if he did. And yet, only a day later was back training with Sylwanin once again, the slave under her whip. 

Eventually he learned his lesson, finding the limit of what he could do and always ending there - begging off training with the excuse of his lessons with Ateyo. Sylwanin would have kept training all day, and him along with her, immune to emotions like mercy and sympathy. The one time he'd said anything about how sore his arms were she'd laughed and told him that was how he knew he was doing it right. 

And maybe he had started to notice the extra muscle tone in his arms, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of being right.

Ateyo gave him a curious look when Isonali dropped down beside him, bruised and tired, having finally managed to escape Sylwanin. "You look tired."

Isonali just groaned, rubbing absently at the bruise forming on his arm. It hurt when he touched it; it hurt when he didn't touch it too, but it was good sort of hurt. The loose-limbed ache that came with a run through the forest, lungs burning and blood pumping through his veins. Isonali would admit that he was coming to enjoy it despite all his complaints. 

"Perhaps we should put off todays lesson," Ateyo said. "I was going to start you on riding but looking at you now..."

Isonali wanted so much, so much, to agree and go lie down for the rest of the day, get some well earned rest, but there’s something in him rebeled at the idea. For so long he'd been desperate to do something, to learn more, be more, and the thought of stopping now, even if only for a day, rankled at him.

"No, I'm good," He said, prying himself up from his seat with a heavy sigh. "I wanted to ask you something about that anyway."

"You know I am always open to questions." Ateyo inclined his head, leading him out of the hometree and towards the pa'li. They were browsing closer to the hometree that day, having done a larger circuit around the lake in the last week to let the flowers replenish. "I know Tsu'tey has taught you some things, but how far has he got?"

"Not far," Isonali admitted sheepishly. "Thats sort of what I wanted to ask you about. It been a couple of weeks since we started but it's still- I don't know. Awkward. No matter how many times I bond with the pa'li, even with different ones, I'm still too clumsy."

Ateyo nodded. The pa’li turn to watch them approach, and with a sharp whistle Ateyo summoned one. It came trotting over, one younger male with a spring in it's step and a broad, firm back. It was more energetic than the female he usually bonded with, its feet always in motion, shifting back and forward even when it stood in place.

"Show me." Ateyo said, gesturing towards the pa'li. Isonali eyed it for a moment, but stepped forward. The bond was different with every pa'li and it took Isonali a moment to brace himself, closing his eyes and breathing through the blooming touch of a foreign mind against his own. He could feel the pa'li's energy, feel its drive and desire to move. To run and feel the forest flick against its hide, feel roots crack beneath it's feet and water splash up its sides. 

It took effort to pull it back on track, rising above the idle murmuring of the pa’li’s mind and concentrating them on the effort at hand. It’s even harder to keep them on track and Isonali had keep up a constant effort to keep it working. 

When Tsu’tey bonded with the pa’li it came effortlessly, yet for Isonali it seemed to become more little difficult each time. He told himself he just needed more practice and ignored the dark feeling in his gut that said it might be something else. Something more serious. 

Move, Isonali ordered, pushing the thought forward. The pa'li jerked beneath him, taking a step forward, but he could feel it's confusion. They managed a trot around the clearing but it's an uphill struggle. The harder Isonali tried to make it work the less the pa'li seemed to do as he said. 

When they finally made it back to Ateyo, Isonali let out a frustrated sigh. His pa’li riding had been getting noticeably worse these last few weeks, to the point when ever Tsu’tey, who was usually happy enough to let him work on things himself, had been tentatively suggesting he ask for help. That first ride in the clearing had felt almost effortless in comparison to this. He slipped from the pa'li's back, breaking the bond hurriedly, if gently.  

"So?" Isonali asked somewhat hopelessly, turning to Ateyo. "What am I doing wrong?"

Ateyo stared at him, absently running a finger up the side of his dagger sheath. It's not the first time Isonali has seen him do it, and he'd come to recognise it as one of Ateyo's few tells. He's thinking, and he's thinking hard. Ateyo made a thoughtful noise. 

"Bond with the pa'li again and tell me what you feel." He ordered. "Talk me through it step by step."

Isonali did so. The young male came back easily enough, but it's enthusiasm was visibly diminished. It didn't quite shy from his touch, but the reluctance was there, and that makes Isonali feel all the worse. He sent it a wave of apology, brushing a hand down it's neck. 

"I feel- frustrated, I guess. Tired. He's confused and um-" It took a moment to decode the feeling. "-shy?" Isonali looked at the pa'li, it shuffled its feet, glancing at him then away again. It hadn't been anything like this before. "I don't understand."

"When you ride what do you say to him? How do you make him move?"

"I tell him where to go, say it in my head. Like Tsu'tey said." Isonali said, still confused. They'd started with verbal commands, which had worked well enough. It was only when Isonali started trying to do it mentally that things started to go downhill. 

Ateyo frowned. He eyed Isonali thoughtfully. "Perhaps you are trying too hard. Leave it a while, think, and then come back later."

Isonali made to protest, impatient. He was eager to learn, to catch up on everything he'd missed, and the lag was all the more frustrating for the fact he was already years behind all of his peers. Every Neytiri, two years younger than him, could ride like the best of the warriors. 

Ateyo shot him a look and Isonali deflated, letting loose a long sigh. 

"If you must have something to do," Ateyo said, "then watch them. Stay with them, follow them, watch until you understand them. Then, perhaps, you will have better luck." 

Isonali didn't know what to do with that, but he doesn't try and ask for more information. He didn’t get the feeling Ateyo would tell him more. Ateyo, like Tsu’tey, was a firm believer in figuring things out for yourself. Said it left him with a better understanding of things than simply being told. For the most part this suited Isonali well enough, but it was times like this that made Isonali want to scream. 

"Come," Ateyo said, already heading back toward the hometree. "The evening meal is about to start."

* * *

Sylwanin sought him out early the next morning, offering training, but Isonali shook his head. "Sorry, I have something to do. Maybe next time."

She shot him a curious look, but shrugged, accepting it easily enough. A moment later she grinned, vicious and satisfied. "Very well. We'll just do double length next time to make up for it."  

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Isonali said, resigned to her ways by now. Of course, agreeing to give him the day didn't mean she didn't make the most of his time, sticking fast to his side all through the morning meal and engaging him in a intense discussion about what they would be trying next lesson. Tsu'tey and Neytiri, sidelined by Sylwanin's impromptu appearance, watched on in amusement as Isonali struggled to answer all her questions to her high standards. 

"And if you were to use a poisoned arrow? How would you adapt your stance?" She said, leaning in intently. Her fingers dragged over the sting of her bow where it lay beside her. Eating or sleeping her hands were never far from it. Isonali was hard pressed to believe she willing went anywhere without it. It was as much a part of her as one of her arms. 

"Um-" Isonali searched for the answer, frowning. Ateyo had never said anything about that. They weren't even anywhere close to the level where he'd start using poison. Even Tsu'tey, advanced as he was, was only just beginning to learn that. 

Slywanin made an impatient noise. "Think on it," she said, getting up. "I'll expect an answer next time."

Isonali nodded, but his mind wasn't on it.  Ateyo's instructions had been well, vague, and Isonali couldn't help wonder what he'd gain from the whole affair. Still, he followed Ateyo's order's faithfully, heading out towards the jungle. Tsu'tey caught him on the way, waving him down and inviting him to come along on a patrol with him in the warriors, but Isonali shook his head. "Maybe next time."

Finding the pa'li was easy enough. The herd tended to drift about the lands around the Hometree at will, their numbers granting them a level of security even deeper in the jungle where predators sometimes ventured. And even then, pa'li could run like the best of them, able to maneuver the jungle with ease. A palulukan would be a threat of course, but then it would be to any other creature. Pa’li were more than a match for most other predators, able to outrun any pack of nantang that tried to have a go at them. 

He found them by the river, long necks bowed to drink, and approached. Not quite sure what to do he plonked himself down on a nearby log, part of a immense branch that had tumbled down some seasons ago and sat rotting there ever since, home to a nursery of ferns and fungi.

The herd seemed content to linger by the river, not doing much of anything. A couple of them drank then wandered off to slurp at some flowers, others taking advantage of the moment of peace to rub their flanks against the protruding roots of one of the great trees, returning only a little while later to sniffing at some flowers.  None of it was very captivating stuff, and Isonali soon found himself fidgeting impatiently, half tempted to go back and fetch his bow to finish carving the decorations while he waited. 

He was just about to get up when he convinced himself out of it, sitting back down stubbornly. Ateyo had told him to watch them, so that's what he'd do. With new conviction he turned his eyes intently back to the herd, determined not to take his eyes of them for an instant. 

Despite his resolve, the hours dragged on. More than once he found himself fiddling idly with the strap of his belt or on the verge of nodding off, head propped up on his arm. 

The herd moved only minimally throughout the course of the day, wandering down the river some distance at one point and then venturing deeper into the forest an hour or two later. They seemed to follow their stomachs for the most part, moving only as much as it took them to reach the next flower. 

By the time the evening meal drew round Isonali was on the verge of giving up entirely. The pa'li's had been, if anything, actually boring - which was saying something considering how interesting he usually found the jungle's creatures - and Isonali couldn't help but feel he'd wasted a day doing nothing. He didn't feel enlightened or even any closer to being able to ride them than he had the day before. If anything he was more frustrated for having lost the day

The idea of wasting another day just sitting around doing nothing left him annoyed and restless. He felt lazy, and, if he was completely honest with himself, slightly ungrateful. The clan had given him everything he could have dreamed of and despite himself he felt- not indebted perhaps but, weel, beholden. After all they'd done for him to sit around doing nothing seemed a poor way of repaying their kindness. 

He admitted as much to Tsu'tey that evening, disheartened. "I don't know what he wants me to do. I don't understand it."

"I do not know any more than you do," Tsu'tey replied. "But my father must have some plan in mind. Go back tomorrow, try again. Perhaps you will have better luck."

Isonali nodded, and tried to put it out of his mind for the moment. Tsu'tey was happy enough to tell him of how his patrol had gone when Isonali asked, but while Isonali was usually quite interested by whatever tales Tsu'tey had to tell today he found it more difficult. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy at Tsu'tey own progress day when he felt he himself had been forced to waste so much time.   

Annoyed by his own silliness, Isonali sat up a little straighter, viciously pushing any feeling of jealousy out of him mind and resolving himself firmly to enjoy Tsu'tey's story as much as he could, feeling happy for Tsu'tey's sake if not his own. 

* * *

Warding Sylwanin off became harder by the day as her impatience grew, and finally he had to concede to leaving the pa'li to train with her. In revenge for his absence she worked him hard for hours that first day, until well past sundown, and he clambered into his hammock that night sore and battered, a whole new set of bruises forming on his arms. 

He didn't repeat the mistake again, training with her each day - if only for an hour or two - and staying with the herd for longer at night to make up for it. He got a less sleep, maybe, but he wasn't willing to compromise his lessons with Ateyo or Sylwanin any more than he had to for the pa'li. 

His visits with the herd were proving no more fruitful than that first miserable day, though his moodwas much improved. Mostly he just sat there watching them, or trailed after the herd as they wandered the lands around the hometree. Boring perhaps, but he was becoming practiced at blocking out the feeling of frustrated impaticence before it had the chance to develop. 

Ateyo was teaching him how to make armguards today, linking together the tough scaled plates harvested from some of the nastier lake fish. Hunting them was a chore, with more than one person having lost a finger to them over the years, but their scales were indispensible as armour, tougher than even the hardest hide. Piercing holes in the side was difficult, but after that making the arm guard was easy, strong leather twine justed to join the overlapping plates together. 

Isonali tugged at his pieces of leather, attaching a plate firmly to the frame underneath. He glanced at Ateyo out of the corner of his eye. Ateyo hadn't said asked him about how he was going with the pa'li, hadn't even mentioned it, and Isonali couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed. He'd made no progress in the days since Ateyo had set him the task. 

"What if I can't do it?" He asked quietly, giving voice to a fear that had been growing since he first had trouble with the bond. "What if whatever's wrong with my memory means I can't properly make tasheylu? Is that possible?"

Ateyo looked up from his work. He frowned, but his eyes were soft, considering. "Perhaps."

Isonali shoulders slumped. He bit his lip, turning back to his work on the armguard with renewed vigor - trying to ignore the way his heart was constricting in his chest. Tsaheylu was important to the Na'vi, so important. Without it there was no Iknimaya, no chance at Unaltiron, at becoming a member of the clan.

"Aninya was like you." Ateyo said after a while. Isonali looked up, confused, but Ateyo wasn't look at him, eyes on his own armguard. "She was cheerful, always so happy, and yet inside she was always worrying."

"Aninya?" Isonali asked. 

"Tsu'tey's mother, my mate." Ateyo replied. Isonali regretted asking immediately. He didn't know what exactly had happened to Tsu'tey mother, just that Ateyo had loved her deeply and that she had died some years ago, very suddenly. "I think she would have liked you."

Isonali didn't know what to day to that, but... "I think I would have liked to meet her."

Ateyo nodded, threading the leather through another scale and tying it off firmly. "Even when things were fine she was always worrying - worrying about Tsu'tey, about me." He huffed, smiling sadly. "But she'd never let anyone else worry."

Isonali looked away, staring at his own armguard intently. It felt wrong to see Ateyo this way. he was always so sure, so strong, always calm and composed. 

"'You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep the spring from coming' she used to say." Ateyo met his eyes. The sadness was there, but it wasn't the only thing. Fondness, nostalgia, a happy remembrance of a lost time. "You should not worry so much, Isonali. What will come will come. If you cannot bond then another path will be found."

Isonali nodded, still slightly disheartened. 

"But," Ateyo added, somewhat more cheerfully. "I do not think it will come to that. You have been having issues, yes, but no more than anybody learning their first bonds - even if they do not remember it now that they have grown."

-

He returned to the herd that afternoon with renewed determination. 

The herd had moved from where he'd left it, but Isonali followed their trail without much difficulty, catching them up within an hour of leaving the hometree. He followed them through the forest for a time, enjoying the walk if nothing else. There were always new sights to see in the jungle. Pass the same stop two days in a row and things would be different.  Things were always in flux, a whole spectrum of life all living and breathing and dying all at once, the world caught in the middle of their death throes. 

A morbid thought, perhaps, but living with the Omaticaya had left him with some level of appreciation for the mortality of all things. One could not live amongst them, learn their ways and beliefs, without gaining some respect for the natural course of Eywa and the flow of energy.

It had seemed so strange a thought at first, incredulous almost, but after a while Isonali had found himself taking comfort in it. It was hard to worry about all the drama and troubled uncertainty when he knew that in the end the world would keep turning, unaffected by the worries that seemed to him so shattering. And perhaps Ateyo's worlds had struck home harder than he'd thought, but the thought was comforting nonetheless. 

Perhaps the walking had put him in a musing mood, Isonali thought, but he didn't regret it. Life amongst the clan was often so busy there was little time for deep thought, and it did him some good to have some time to himself every once in awhile. 

The pa'li herd moved where it would and Isonali shadowed them, walking amongst the herd like an extra shadow. They had grown used to his presence last days and no longer paid him much mind, content to go about their business as if he wasn't there. 

Isonali watching them he walked. He'd slowly come to be able to recognise them, familiar with he particular splatter of spots along one male's neck and the slightly bent antennae of one of the older females. He amused themselves coming up with names for them, though he knew they would never deign to keep any name he tried supply - it wasn't in their nature. 

He found himself walking beside the oldest female, the first pa'li he'd ever bonded with. She was second largest in the group, with a distinctive cluster of white points along the bridge of her nose that reminded him rather of one of the constellations visible through the highest branches of the hometree. She walked more slowly than some of her peers - her manner more calm than some of the more boisterous youngsters.

There was a younger male that stuck by her side. He was almost half her size, barely into adulthood, and Isonali rather fancied he might be her child. He was an inquisitive thing, ironic considering how shy he appeared. More than once Isonali watched him dart out from her side to nose at one thing or another only to come running back when something moved unexpectedly and he startled. 

It had made Isonali laugh more than once when the silly thing, fascinated by the bright colours of a zize, tried to get a sniff at one, only to go skittering back when it flashed its wings menacingly at him. Despite the warning the poor thing persisted in trying to get a better look, right up until the point his mother veered in front of him with a scolding huff, directing him away. 

The more he watched the more the differences in their character became apparent. Some, he noticed, would bee-line straight for the largest of the yellow flowers, eager to slurp up as much nectar as they could while others, perhaps more picky, would browse around until they found a specific flower that pleased them most, then hog it almost territorially for the rest of the afternoon. 

The younger females were always getting into mischief. Larger and more densely muscled than the males, they would entertain themselves with races around the browsing herd, throwing up mud and abusing the plant life until one of the older females finally had enough and cowed them into submission. Not that the peace lasted long. They were always back at it again soon enough. 

The longer he stayed the more he realised there was always something going on. 

Even when they didn't appear to be doing anything there was a subtle interplay at work. Members of the herd would drift together and apart, making rounds in slow patterns only they could understand as they did circuits of every member of the herd. Sometimes the whole interaction would take place in a single brush of their antennae against each other, other times with a nudge on the nose or flick of the tail as they passed. They were constantly aware of each other's presences, constantly communicating, reaffirming their bonds and position in the herd. 

Before he knew it the night show had begun, plants in the deepest shadow beginning to glow faintly as the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, hidden high above the canopy. 

He thought about returning to the hometree, Eywa know's he'd had a long enough day, but then one of the younger females got startled by a springing fern leaf and went racing away, alarmed as anything by a few green fronds, and Isonali couldn't help but laugh. The Sleeping could wait. He was still deep in Omaticaya land, close to the hometree - he'd be safe spending a night outside. 

He'd never stayed with the herd things long before, and it was with a start that he realised they were becoming more active, their pace increasing as they made a long loop around the lake, making low noises to each other as they move around the trees. Most of the flowers has closed for the night, petals sealing them tightly shut, and without them the pa'li were left to distract themselves by other means, having napped  frequently over the course of the day.

Isonali followed them. Soon he was working up a sweat, grinning as he pushed to keep up with a group of juveniles, who, more active than ever, had gone prancing off. He lost them within minutes, too fast for him to race, but they circled back around again, coming back to meet him. 

The older males were getting into the mood of it to, challenging each other with snorting huffs and taunting flicks of the head. They were showing off for the females, he realised, not that any of the older ones looked very impressed. They'd seen it all before, had their pick of males in their time. Though some of the younger females watched curiously, golden eyes assessing. 

After a while he found himself falling back to the side of the oldest female, leaning against her side as he caught his breath, having been caught up in the play of the juveniles for far longer than was sensible. She eyed him when he first approached, probably remembering their last disastrous attempts at Tsaheylu, but made no objection to his presence, not moving away when he accidentally bumped into her side - and then stayed there, her skin warm against the misty night air. 

He didnt know how long it had been - the nights timeless, dusk never ending - but he started dozing off at some point, the effort of the day taking it's toll on him despite his best attempts to resist it. The grating cawing of the fkio woke him sometime later, and he found himself jerking upright, sure that the her had moved on without him and that he'd be lying on the ground, alone and unprotected. 

It wasn't the case. The old female was standing some feet away, golden eyes on him, and the rest of the herd close by, drifting in and out of the trees somewhat more sedently. He sat up, leaning back against a root, and watched them, sleepily tracing the patterns their glowing pinpoints made against their skin - like stars in a night sky. 

The herd began to move on once more, and he made to follow them, but his eyes were still half-lidden, his feet clumsy, and more than once he tripped, almost falling flat on his face. After the second time the older female wandered closer, looking at him intently, and with a start he realized what she was offering. 

He clambered onto her back hesitantly, but didn't initiate the bond, not wanting to ruin the moment. She didn't seem to mind - not waiting for it, wandering on after the herd as if she hadn't even noticed his weight on her back.  

He didn't fall asleep again, he didn't think he could if he tried to, so instead he watched the herd, watched the way they moved, the way they always returned to the same patterns. The youngsters running amok but always coming back to the same females, touching antenna reassuringly before running off again to play. Watching the males, the females brushed sides, shoulders bumping or noses touching, always the same gestures, each with different meanings. 

The herd moved together as one, he thought, each separate individual moving as part of a greater mechanism. There was something there, something below the surface. Something amazing. 

He'd thought they were boring that first day. Beyond dull. 

Now. Now, though, Isonali couldn't help but marvel. The level of coordination, of communication it must take for them to move together without even a single word seeming to pass between them. Not because they were all under orders, but because they new each other's minds - knew how to each one would move and how to move around them, with them, to the best advantage of the herd. 

This, Isonali realized, was what Ateyo had sent him to learn.

* * *

Ateyo found him in the jungle early the next morning. He quirked his lips when he saw Isonali, amused and slightly confused. "I looked for you at the morning meal. You were not there."

Isonali was lounging on the back of one of the pa'li, tswin running over his shoulder and down to where it was connected to the pa'li's. He wasn't moving, wasn't riding. He was just sitting there, quite comfortable, looking as if he'd been there for hours. 

"I wasn't hungry," Isonali replied. "Not enough to bother walking back anyway."

"You must have left quite early," Ateyo remarked, watching at the pa'li shifted, clambering over a long root to get at a batch of new flowers. The movement didn't seem to perturb Isonali at all. He leaned into it, not budging an inch from his place on it's back.  "Usually Tsu'tey has to drag you out of bed."

Isonali shrugged. He slipped off the pa'li's back, running a fond hand down its neck as he released the bond. "I'll see you later," he murmured, smoothing a hand over the crest on it's neck when it turn it's head after him, lamenting the loss of the bond. He turned to Ateyo. "It wasn't so much early as late."

That surprised Ateyo. "You stayed out all night? You know, when I said to study the pa'li I did not mean you had to be here every waking moment."

"I know, I just didn't want to leave. I was only just getting to know some of the more skittish ones." Isonali said, rolling his shoulders to gte rid of the lingering stiffness from sitting up all night. "I could hardly leave half way through meeting them."

"It is good to see you are getting along with them better," Ateyo said. 

"I just did as you said." Isonali replied. 

Ateyo refrained from remarking that nobody else would have gone to such lengths, staying out with the pa'li for almost two days straight over something like this. Isonali was determination to learn was intense, sometimes exasperatingly so, but Ateyo could hardly fault him for it - nor would he anybody else with a desire to learn. Instead he said, "Well done, perhaps later you can show me how much your riding has improved."

Isonali nodded. Then suddenly he asked, "So what do you do when using poisoned arrows?"


	12. Rethinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added a bunch of new chapters recently. If you haven't read it in a while I'd suggest going back. I got a bit carried away and added new scenes here and there in old chapters, and chapter 3 is entirely new material. Bit of a mess, to be honest, but you guys know well by know that I go back over this story quite often.

"It could just be a short visit." Neytiri said pleadingly. "Just so you can see what it looks like. It's a really interesting place - so different from the hometree."

Isonali bit his lip, hesitant. "Neytiri..."

"I know what you promised Tsu'tey." Neytiri said quickly. "You wouldn't even have to talk to them. We could go when they aren't there. Just- please? I want to show you the school."

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "You know what happened the last time. I don't trust them, Neytiri."

"You don't have to trust them. Trust me. I know Grace and the others. Whatever happened - if anything happened." She added stubbornly."Then they had nothing to do with it. They're good people."

And true, Augustine and her people had seemed harmless enough, all of them friendly and respectful. But the same couldn't be said of the rest of them, and Isonali couldn't find himself being comfortable with the idea of willingly going to meet them."

Neytiri looked ready to start again, a whole speech lined up, but he cut her off, holding up a hand. "I'll think about it." He promised. When the Neytiri had first brought it up he'd been firmly set on having nothing to do with it, unwilling to go anywhere near they skypeople, by Neytiri had kept at him, nipping at his heels like a nantang, until he found himself wondering why not?

"I don't know what to do." He told Tsu'tey later. He'd been disapproving but not angry when Isonali had first mentioned it, probably long resigned to Neytiri eventually trying something like this. 

"If you want to meet them you should." Tsu'tey said, after listening to Isonali weigh the pros and cons back and forth for a good hours, still no closer to coming to a decision by the end of it than when he'd started. 

He stared. Tsu'tey's answer had caught Isonali completely by surprise. He'd been certain Tsu'tey would object, and strongly at that. "Really? But you made me promise not to go near them. I thought..."

"I do not trust them." Tsu'tey said. "And I do not like them. But neither will I be the leash that keeps you here. If you want to see them you shall."

"But you'd rather I wouldn't." Isonali said. 

"I would rather nobody went near them. They are not safe. But people do, and it is not my place to stop them - not unless Eytukan orders otherwise." Yes, essentially, though Tsu'tey refused to say it outright. Isonali nodded, mulling it over. 

"You studied there right? Neytiri said you learned english at the school." Isonali said finally. 

"I did." Tsu'tey nodded.

"So they must not have been that bad. You must have trusted them at one point." Isonali concluded. "That was after the wars and peace, so why did that change?"

Tsu'tey shot him a look. "You know why. After the wars they were careful, respectful - wary of another war - but now they grow complacent. They take what is not their to take. Kill when there is no reason to kill. Perhaps they could be trusted before, but no longer."

Ateyo did not have much to say on when he asked, simply telling him to be careful, whatever he did. He even broached the subject with Sylwanin. "Go, don't go, does it matter? Grace and the others at the school are nice enough, but the others..." Her tailed flicked angrily. "I do not like them."

Sylwanin saw him frowning and flicked him the with feathered end of and arrow, ordering him to get back in stance. "Stop asking other people's opinions and decide for yourself. Those who do not like them will continue not to like them, and those who do will too. Which group you belong to is up to you." 

Which was an interesting statement, but not as helpful as he'd hoped. he continued to hesitate for another two days, before Neytiri ambushed him after his lesson with Ateyo and demanded a answer. 

"I still don't like them." He reminded her nervously as she dragged him energetically through the forest, towards the school. He wasn't sure why he'd agreed - save for a vague idea of learning more about them before he decided one way or another. "And I'm just going to look at it. I'm not going inside, not going to talk to them, okay?"

"Yes." Neytiri agreed, actually seeming to take his words to heart. She still felt guilty about the last incident with the skypeople, the way she'd corner him with them and the whole debacle that had set off. "They're not supposed to be there today anyway, I made sure to check."

That made him feel slightly better, but the tight nervousness in his stomach didn't go away, and he advanced reluctantly, pulled along by Neytiri. More than once he thought about calling it off altogether and turning back, but one look at Neytiri put it out of his head. She looked so happy, finally able to share something she loved so much. 

He sighed, resigning himself to go along for her sake if not his own. 

When it finally came into sight the school was unexpected familiar. A single story building, laid out in one large room in the jungle clearing, raised poles several feet off the ground, with a set of stairs leading up to the only door. It had windows but no glass, and neat rows of fruiting plants had been planted around the clearing, flowers in abundance everywhere. 

And yet it was like nothing the Na'vi would ever build, the walls made out of cut planks and the roof a thatch of dried grasses. From what he'd heard the other clans sometimes built structures like this, stand alone from their hometree, but even then they did not cut down trees and saw plats to make them. He had never visited the other clans anyway, so why was it so familiar.

Another mystery of his memory, pointing towards the skypeople.  

Neytiri didn't notice his unease, dragging him closer, and it was along when they were well into the clearing when he noticed the sleek metal machine parked half hidden behind the building, a hand-full of skypeople lingering around it. 

He jerked to a halt, pulling Neytiri with him. She looked distraught as soon as she noticed the machine, glancing at him guiltily. She held his hand tightly. "I am sorry Isonali, I did not know they would be here. We can go if you like, before any of them see you."

But Isonali could see Augustine already walking toward them, waving. the other dreamwalkers smiled but headed towards the building, carrying boxes and strange instruments. 

Isonali glanced back towards the forest, towards the hometree, so very tempted to take her up on her offer, but he shook his head. "It's fine. They've already seen us anyway."

Neytiri still looked upset, but he bumped her shoulder, smiling at her reassuringly. Sometimes he forgot she was younger than him, the way she was so head strong most of the time. 

"I'd have ended up running into them at some point anyway." He said. Maybe. The clan had so far been very helpful in avoiding them. He didn't say that last part, turning instead to give Augustine a polite smile that he didn't feel, his insides tight and queasy. "I see you, Augustine."

He could tell she was cautious, hesitant after how badly their last encounter had gone. Neytiri had promised that she hadn't told the skypeople any more about him or why he'd run off, and no doubt Augustine was still confused about how she'd managed to frighten him off. For the most part she got along well with the clan, respected by many of the adults and adored by the children who attended her school. Her and her team had been an invaluable help in teaching the clan English - something that had done a great deal for diplomatic efforts between the Na'vi and skypeople.

"I was wondering if I would see you again." She said, stopping a couple of feet from them. Wary of running him off once more, no doubt. She looked around, glancing at the forest around them admiringly. "I love coming out here. The jungle's an amazing place."

"You visit the jungle often then?" Isonali found himself asking, making an effort not to sink into an awkward, chilly silence. "I thought most skypeople stayed on your base."

"Most do, but we-" She gestured to her team, still unloading boxes and fiddling with strange equipment. "We're the scientists. This place is fascinating, and we're here to study it."

"Not all of you, though." Isonali said, his eyes lingering on the machine gun mounted in the hanger of the vehicle. The sight of it sent a chill down his spine and he knew, he knew, that he should have no idea what that was, but he did - all too clearly. 

Augustine followed his gaze, and there was something like regret in her eyes when she looked back. "No. Not as many as I would like anyway. Places like this should be protected. There's so much we can learn from them, things far more valuable than unobtanium."

"I see." Isonali said, and settled into thoughtful silence. Neytiri and Augustine chatted a while longer, Neytiri eager to tell Augustine about everything that had been happening recently, updating her on her training and the other children of the clan. 

"Viyi'li was a little sick a while ago. His mother was even saying she might come ask for some medicine, but mother and the healers had a look at him and he's better now." Neytiri said. Augustine nodded, looking relieved. "That's good to hear. Tell him I look forward to seeing him back at the school."

Isonali remained the rest of the trip, joining the conversation here and there, feeling a little more confident around the skypeople - or at least around Augustine and her scientists. After properly meeting them he was a little less wary. They, at least, were good people. he even allowed Neytiri to bring him inside the school, showing him the benches where the children all sat and big board across one wall that the skypeople used to teach. 

There were photos pinned along some of the walls, images of Augustine and the children picking fruit, sitting together, even in the middle of class. In every one the children were smiling. Usually Augustine too, though once or twice she had a expression of exaggerated disapproval. Isonali leaned in to get a better look, surprised to find Tsu'tey in one of the photos. It was at least a couple of years old, Tsu'tey far shorter and lankier than he was today, but he still had that unmistakable frown. 

"A lot of adults used to come too." Augustine commented from behind him, pointing out a photo. And it was true, he recognized Mo'at and a few others - men and women he'd seen around the hometree. "They wanted to learn English and help teach us your language in turn. Fewer come these days, but we some still come."

"I imagine it wasn't easy at the start." Isonali said, and tried to suppress a spike of panic when he had to concentrate on speaking Na'vi. He knew without trying that if he opened his mouth, if he ever tried, his English would be perfect - and that frightened him more than anything. "Learning each other's languages, I mean." He added awkwardly. 

"Most of it was already in progress well before I arrived. It's just as well. Na'vi isn't easy if you aren't used to it." Augustine said. "But then neither is English. I suppose we were lucky that the grammatical structure was mostly the same."

"People have told me that you are dreamwalkers, that this is not your true body." Isonali said, not sure he wanted to know the answer. "How is it possible?"

"Science." Augustine said. "We mix our DNA- That is, the information that creates your body the way it is, sort of like-"

"I understand." Isonali interrupted. "Go on."

Augustine shot him a curious look, startled by his reply. Normally Na'vi found the concept difficult to grasp, only beginning to understand when she explained it in terms of physical essences. "Well, we mix the DNA and created hybrid cells, which are grown into full bodies. Each one is made for a specific person, and we can move our mind into them."

"But is not a true change." Isonali said, glancing at her fingers. For the most part the dreamwalkers looked like them, but there were things off about them. They had five fingers, not four, with smaller eyes and a tswin that began at the base of the skull. Small differences, not immediately obvious, but strange nonetheless. 

"It's not." Augustine agreed. "My true body is still back at the base, though my mind is here."

Isonali nodded, not saying anything more. Neytiri came and found them before the silence stretched on too long, providing a grateful escape when she suggested going back to the hometree, saying the evening meal would be beginning soon. It was true, almost. The cooking for the evening meal would be beginning but the meal itself would not be for another hour or so.

"I hope to talk to you again, Isonali." Augustine said,giving him a friendly smile as they bid their farewells. "It's been nice meeting you."

Isonali nodded, but made no promises. His conversation with Augustine had not been bad, nothing like what he'd feared the skypeople would be, but it hadn't been easy either, and he was nowhere near comfortable enough to truly enjoy spending time with the skypeople. 

"Perhaps." He said instead.  

* * *

Isonali woke with a start, a cold sweat running his back and the sound of laughter echoing in his ears. He could still see that flash of green, poisonous and hungry, but gone again as quickly as it had come - vanishing back along with the rest of the dream. 

He climbed out of his hammock, far too unsettled to sleep again that night, and instead made his way to the Ikran roost. The cool night air did him good, the gentle glow of the night helping sooth the worse of the lingering nightmare. He sat down on the branch, feet hanging over the edge, and listened to the sleepy calls of the Ikran. 

He'd never dreamed about his past before, never had anything more than out of place ideas - popping up, strange and unexplainable, from the hidden corners of his memory. Harmless for the most part, but strange... Concerning. He'd been so desperate to recover his memory when he first arrived, and yet now with each new thing that came to light, the less he wanted to know. 

Ironic, perhaps. But he was happy here and from what he'd seen his memories were... not.

"You were not in your hammock." Tsu'tey said, coming out through the tunnel into the hometree. "I should have known I would find you here." 

"I couldn't sleep." Isonali said, shuffling over to make room for Tsu'tey to site beside him. Tsu'tey did, but not before shooting him a curious look at how close he was sitting to the edge. Usually he was more wary of heights than this. "I thought I should clear my head."

"A nightmare?" Tsu'tey asked.

"I don't know." It hadn't been anything concrete, barely more than a flash of colour and a single noise, and yet its effects had been profound. Frightening for reasons he couldn't explain. "Maybe."

"Was it the skypeople?" Tsu'tey asked. "Neytiri told me that you talked to some of them. She said you looked troubled."

Isonali shook his head. "It wasn't about them, at least I don't think so. It was something else."

"A memory." Tsu'tey concluded, if anything looking more concerned. 

"Mo'at keeps saying things will come back, but all I've gotten is bits and pieces. Even this was barely more than a shadow. I would rather it just didn't come back at all rather than taunt me like this, giving me just enough to worry, but never enough to truly know anything."

They sat in silence for a long moment, Isonali settling back into a black mood. Before he could do more than frown broodingly Tsu'tey was standing once more, hauling Isonali to his feet as he went. 

"What?" Isonali asked, stumbling a little at suddenly being jerked upwards. Tsu'tey kept a firm grip on his arm, steadying him before he could do more than sway. 

"Come on, we're going riding." Tsu'tey said, already striding off towards the tunnel. 

"Right now?" Isonali said incredulously, rushing to catch up with him. "It's the middle of the night! Dawn won't be for hours."

"Exactly." Tsu'tey said. He made a beeline for the central spiral, disappearing from sight and leaving Isonali to catch up with him, whispering hurriedly to avoid waking the sleeping Na'vi. 

"Why though? I was supposed be working on the clan histories today." Isonali said, sending a cautious glance at a nearby group of hammocks. None of them so much as stirred. 

"I told you I would take you to see the mountains when you were healed. You are now healed." Tsu'tey said. "Hurry, we must leave soon if we want to get back before noon."

"But my lessons!" Isonali protested, then snapped his mouth shut, sending a guilty look up the hometree towards where everyone was sleeping. "I'm supposed to meet Ateyo after the morning meal."

"He won't mind." Tsu'tey said. "But perhaps you are right."

Having said that he flagged down a group of nearby Na'vi at the ground cavern, all hunters and warriors up for an early start, or a late night. "Could one of you tell my father that Isonali and I have gone riding? We will be back at noon."

"What was that?" Isonali asked, staring after him.

"Now you do not have to worry about your lessons." Tsu'tey said, looking far too pleased with himself. Before Isonali could open his mouth to- protest? Agree? He hardly even knew by this point -Tsu'tey let out a sharp whistle. It rang in his ears, echoing eerily through the trees. 

A couple of moments later the undergrowth began to rustle on at the edge of the forest, the heavy drum of approaching feet growing louder, and the pa'li herd came ambling out, quick and curious.

Tsu'tey met them halfway, slinging himself onto one's back and connecting their tswin in one smooth movement. He looked back at Isonali expectantly. Isonali huffed and gave up any attempt at resistance, heading to greet one of the pa'li - a friendly female with a energetic disposition and thickly muscled legs. He would have taken the older female, enjoying her calm temperament, but she prefered to stay with the herd and keep an eye on them all.

Tsaheylu felt like a deep breath, like coming back home after a long day and meeting an old friend. He'd bonded with this pa'li once or twice before, getting to know her, but had never actually ridden with her, simply following where she lead. This time he stepped forward, letting the vision of what he wanted blossom in his mind, the path they would take laid before her. 

And then they were moving, flying through the undergrowth with a speed that would have been unexpected - except that he had been there for the thought, for the idea of the sudden rush, and had stepped into it with her, leaning into the motion. Tsu'tey let out a startled cry behind them and urged his own pa'li into a run, racing to catch up. 

Isonali kept his eyes closed, watching the world though her eyes. He had become accustomed to the double vision but when riding it could still be a distraction, the sudden shifting between greyscale and colour enough to startle him, and her as well. It was odd seeing the world this way, the prespective lower than what he was accustomed, but it made it easier to guide her where he wanted her, visualizing the path they should take through a world of her own perspective.

They vaulted over a fallen log, the powerful spring of her legs taking them across in one smooth jump. They landed with a splash in a small stream, throwing up mud. He imagined them circling the stream, waiting for Tsu'tey to catch up, and she followed that image, understanding the intent of it. 

It took only a minute for Tsu'tey to arrive, his pa'li sailing over the log and dancing to a stop, operculi fluttering open and closed quickly on its neck, breath heavy. His pa'li was smaller than Isonali's, as the males so often were, but it was also faster, having gained on them throughout the course of the ride. They were well around the other side of the lack now, and while Isonali knew in general where the floating mountains where, he let Tsu'tey take the lead from there. 

* * *

"I thought it takes took days to get to the floating mountains." Isonali said as they neared their destination. The jungle was too thick to see the sky, hiding every hint of the floating mountains from sight, though Tsu'tey had assured him they were close. "You and the warriors were gone for a while during the Iknimaya."

"The Ikran roost is further away, on the far side of the mountains. Much of it is closer, surrounding the Tree of Souls." Tsu'tey explained, leading them around a colossal trees, its roots thick as trees in their own right and sprawled in a tangled mess across the jungle floor. 

They were travelling slow enough that he didn't bother keep his eyes closed, trusting in his ability to manage the shifting perspective. He would have thought they'd begin to blend after a while but no, every moment of the bond he was aware of the difference in their bodies - he was simply adjusting to the feeling of having a second set of eyes. 

The first glimpse of the floating mountains didn't look like much, just a fine mist coming down from somewhere far above and a hint of worn grey between the treetops. And then they took other steps, the trees parting around them, and Isonali could see it.

There were massive stone arches rising into the sky, dozens - no hundreds - of meters high, and beyond them... It looked light something had shattered in the sky and the fallen pieces had just- Stopped. Suspended in mid-air and left there to weather, plants taking hold, creeping up the sides and holding the loose pieces together.

And they were everywhere, some of them barely bigger than large boulders, some as larger - bigger even - than the jungle trees, massive slabs of the land somehow taken to the air, sometimes so thick and close that they seemed to blot out the sky. Despite everything Tsu'tey had told him he couldn't help but expected the to fall at any moment, and it it made every second they stayed afloat all the more amazing. 

"How do they stay up there?" Isonali asked. 

"Nobody knows." Tsu'tey said. "It is by Eywa's will. She keeps them here to protect this place."

"What do you mean?" Isonali said, turning to look at him. But Tsu'tey kept going, heading through the jungle intently, deeper beneath the floating mountains. 

"Look." Tsu'tey said, gesturing ahead. The massive stone arches were centered around there, he realised, looking up, circling around something. The forest was thinning slightly, just enough that ahead he could make out a clearing. 

No, no a clearing, a basin, deep and maybe sixty meters wide, large enough to fit most of the clan. One side had a gentle slope leading down and that was they way Tsu'tey took them. As they came over the rise, Isonali finally caught sight of it - the Tree of Souls.

It wasn't the strangest plant he'd ever seen in the jungle, but there was something about that stood out - it was eerie in a way that no other had been, the vague feeling of something old and deep coming to mind when he started at it for too long. Which was ironic, considering it was a gentle pink colour, long circular strands hanging down like the weeping branches of a willow. 

As they approached he could feel an energy to it, buzzing beneath the ground, beneath his skin. This place was important. 

"Is it always like this?" Isonali asked, getting off his pa'li. He put a hand on her side, sending a feeling of thanks through the bond before breaking it, leaving him alone in his head once more. The feeling of the Tree of Souls faded somewhat with the bond broken, though if he concentrated he could still sense it - the power of this place, like an electrical current, a pulse beneath the surface of the planet. 

"It is the home of Eywa." Tsu'tey said, reverent. All that time and Isonali hadn't understood why the honored this place so much, how it inspired so much awe and wonder, and protectiveness. Now he understood all too well. "Places like this are where she speaks to us, where we can hear her will through the voices of our ancestors. Every member of the clan comes here. No outsiders are permitted."

"Outsiders?" Isonali said, a sudden flash of paranoia reminding him that not too long ago he'd been an outsider to the clan. Was he still? He had been accepted into the clan but he hadn't undergone Iknimaya or Unaltiron, hadn't joined the clan properly, as Tsu'tey had. 

"The skypeople." Tsu'tey replied. 

They left the pa'li at the top of the rise and made their way down. The basin was thick with roots and vines. They came down the rough walls and ran across the stone, weaving towards the Tree of Souls. It was larger up close, but still a modest size compared to the larger jungle trees. 

As they grew closer he thought he could almost hear whispers, the sound of somebody saying carried by the breeze, but when he tired to listen it vanished, leaving him wondering if it'd hadn't just been part of his imagination. Unsettled, he glanced around the basin, at the high stone walls and the precious tree protected within. 

"Is the Tree of Voices also like this?" Isonali asked. "Does it feel this..." He didn't know how to put it into words. 

Tsu'tey shook his head. "You can hear the ancestors there, but it is not like this. The Tree of Souls is unique."

Tsu'tey lead him right to the heart of it, until they were standing among the pink strands, the roots of the tree spread out around them. The strands were about as thick as his finger and they glowed even in the light of day, slow pulses of white traveling down from the top. He went to touch one, then hesitated, shooting a look at Tsu'tey.

"Are we allowed to touch?" He asked, fingers hovering just inches away from a cluster of strands. 

Tsu'tey gave him a small smile. "Of course." He said, and took one of the strands in hand. Then he did the unexpected, reaching around to take his tswin, and brang them together. He eyes closed and his head tilted into it - and Isonali couldn't help but think it looked like he was praying. 

He was, Isonali realised, and averted his eyes awkwardly, feeling like he'd somehow violated tsu'tey's privacy by watching. He reach cautiously for a stand, copying Tsu'tey and connecting his tswin to it. It didn't feel like tsaheylu. There was no sudden rush of connection, no intense feeling of a foreign mind coming into connection with his own, and for a moment he wondered if he was doing it right.

And then he heard it. Laughter, barely louder than a distant whisper on the breeze. And singing, a beautiful song, but one he didn't recognise, the language some how more archaic, different from what he knew. They lasted for a second, flashes of someone talking, an ugly sob, the squeal of playing children. It wasn't a conversation, wasn't a conscious interaction, more like memories, moments of the past caught and held, people living and laughing and dying all at once. 

He didn't know how long he stayed there. It felt like minutes, but when Tsu'tey gently shook his shoulder and he looked up the sun had moved across the sky and the pa'li were nowhere in sight. He undid the bond, and breathed deeply, his thoughts rushing back into his head like a flood. 

The Tree of Souls was entrancing, its bond like a siren song. If Tsu'tey had not been there he did not know how long he would have stayed listening. Hours probably, maybe even days. Would he have noticed his hunger, or would he have kept listening, hypnotized?

It was an unnerving thought, and he promised himself then and there not to bond with it again without someone there. Perhaps the tance would become manageable in time, but for now he didn't trust himself to do it alone. 

"Come on." Tsu'tey said. "We should get back. We have already stayed too long to make it back by noon."

They spent the ride back in silence, each lost in thought for their own reasons. On Isonali part he was... confused, and a little amazed. The Na'vi were always talking about Eywa but he admitted he'd never really put much stock in the idea until now. 

The spotted a couple of people as the approached the hometree, and Isonali bid them a distracted greeting. Word must have gone ahead of their return because Ateyo met them in the clearing. Tsu'tey bid them farewell, going to his own training, and leaving Isonali to his lessons. It was an interesting lesson, a useful one, but Isonali found himself distracted, his thoughts always wandering back to the Tree of Souls.  

"We visited the Tree of Souls." Isonali explained as Ateyo showed him how to sharpen and maintain a dagger. "It was... strange. Enlightening."

"It often is." Ateyo said, his eyes knowing, and went on to show him how to make a good whetstone. The lesson was a conundrum of time - passing far too slowly and far too quickly. Time seemed to drip like thick treacle, never ending, and yet before he knew it the lesson was over. 

Then he did what he'd been waiting to do all afternoon. He went to see Mo'at.

"She's really there isn't she?" He asked. Mo'at looked up from her work. It was one of her few moments of spare time with no sick in need of healing and no important event to interpret, and she was making the most of it to string together bead for her new shawl. Half of it was already done, the lovely oranges and reds laid out in neat rows, in patterns mysterious to all but herself.

The air smelled sweet, the hazy smoke in incense drifting through the air. The smell clung to her like a gentle perfume even outside the healing chambers, warm and comforting. Mo'at smiled. "She is. She is everywhere. Though you knew her name you did not see her before, not truly, as you do now."

"What is she?" He asked. The presence he'd felt through the Tree of Souls had been old and immense, as slow and deep as the ocean. Small waves might ripple across the surface but it was nothing compared to enormous bulk that lay, still and slumbering, deep beneath.

"She is the one who gives us life, gives everything life. We live upon her skin, eat and drink her gifts, and when the time comes we return to her, so that she might grant that life to another."

And Isonali thought of that fallen log in the forest. The tree had died seasons ago and now it lay there rotting and dead, and yet bustling with life. Ferns and mushrooms, the sprouting seeds of new trees, all of them growing from the nutrients of that dead tree. Eventually the hole in the canopy would regrow, the tree's place taken by one of the lives it had helped develop. 

That was what Eywa was, Isonali realized, and when he looked up Mo'at was smiling at him.  

"I think I understand." He said, but he didn't, not really. Nothing could ever understand something to immense -large as the planet itself and older than the stars. Some might know it better than most, like the Tsahiks, but he didn't think any living thing would truly understand it. 


	13. Those Happy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added a bunch of new chapters recently. If you haven't read it in a while I'd suggest going back. I got a bit carried away and added new scenes here and there in old chapters, and chapter 3 is entirely new material. Bit of a mess, to be honest, but you guys know well by know that I go back over this story quite often.

Isonali crouched lower, brushing away a long group of hanging leaves to get a better look at the ground. The earth is damp, muddy, the three-toes tracks of a yerik clear. But it's only a single set, the trail disappearing again once it left the mud. 

"It was going south." Isonali said, following the direction of the tracks. "A large one too, maybe male."

"And how many were there?" Sylwanin asked him, leaning back against a tree and watching him work. She's idly stroking the feather fletching on an arrow, fingers following its clean path down the end of the arrow. "How long ago did they pass?"

"Two." Isonali said, spotting a couple of broken stems a little along from the footprints - another yerik probably walking at its side. Then he was forced to guess. "Maybe a couple of hours?"

Sylwanin hummed noncommittally and prowls over to have a look at the track herself. He watches her study them, watches the way's her eyes dart around, seeing everything, and knew he'd barely gotten a fraction of the information of the information she was. 

"Three." She corrected. "A male and some females. Probably a small herd that has just formed." 

She steps back again, motioning him continue. Isonali nods firmly, glancing at the spots she'd pointed out. Displaced leaves and scrapes in the moss - impossible to spot unless you were looking, and even then Isonali had trouble. 

He headed off after the tracks, keeping a slow pace as he scanned across the undergrowth, every now and then glancing around watchfully to make sure nothing was sneaking up on him. That has had been Sylwanin's first lesson, and perhaps her most precious. The forest was dangerous, its creatures always hungry, and she had started by teaching him how to read its atmosphere - the distant calls in the jungle and what silence could mean, safety, or something close enough to kill. 

The trail lead down towards a stream, at one point zig-zagging down the overgrown side of a cliff face. The drop in altitude gave them no respite from the jungle, plunging them into even thicker undergrowth, the canopy overhead as thick and complex as ever. He lost the tracks on the way down and had to spend a while circling the base of the cliff, until he spotted them again - a roughed set of young ferns, leaves broken by indifferent feet. 

And then they were off again, following every hint, every sign - like a bloodhound on the chase. It lead them further and further from the hometree, but Sylwanin didn't comment, and Isonali didn't stop, keeping up the chase. 

They followed the tracks across a valley and back up the other side, all the way around a series of swampy pools, until finally, hours later, Isonali peered around the corner of a tree and saw the yerik grazing. they hadn't seen them yet, heads down, warning fans furled on the sides of their heads. 

Isonali looked back to Sylwanin, putting a questioning hand on his bow. She shook her head, and he held back a sigh of disappointment. the first hunt was a great achievement, and one he had yet to collect. 

"Not yet." Sylwanin whispered. "You would it it, but you are not yet skilled enough to kill with one shot. It would cause needless suffering."

Instead they watched the yerik until one of them finally noticed them, bleating, and sent up a fright amongst the herd, sending them all racing off into the undergrowth. Isonali walked over to where they had stood, kneeling to look at the tracks they had left. Even fresh as they were they were hard to find, the earth dry. 

"Eventually you will learn to know these tracks as if they were your own." Sylwanin said, coming up behind him. "To read who made them, how, and how long ago. Then you will learn to read them from pa'li back, Ikran back even, 

Sylwanin taken over this portion of his training some weeks ago with a gleefulness only second to her love of archery, and had kicked it off by leading him deep into the forest and then abandoning him almost completely.

Survival training, she had said, and then left him there to fend for himself. Everything he ate he collected himself, every sleeping spot, fire, and animal encounter he struggled though alone. Oh, she's still been around, watching him from somewhere, and he knew she would probably help if he was about to die, but apart from that he was on his own. 

Comparing it to his first days in the jungle barely signified, he knew so much more now, could do so much more. Ateyo and his trips with Tsu'tey in the jungle served him well, and for those first couple of days he thought he was doing rather well. 

And then it got worse. It started with Slywanin returning one morning and telling him to track her, before disappearing once more into the few minutes later. At first her tracks were easy enough to follow, most of it obviously planted in retrospect, but the signs grew fainter with every step, and eventually he was horribly lost, no clue where he could have gone.

She left him like that for a couple of hours, probably because it amused her, Isonali guesses, and as a lesson to do better, and then collected him at nightfall, leading him back to his makeshift camp. 

"We'll do it again tomorrow." She said. "Next time you will do better." Her tone brooked no argument. And then went on to explain everything he'd done wrong, everything he should have done, and another dozen tips about how to properly track something. 

The next day wasn't much easier, nor the day after that. Isonali was starting to really appreciate Ateyo's teaching styles, even reminiscing on the days the only torture Sylwanin could inflict on him was too many hours of archery. 

Still, he got better at tracking, he thinks, because eventually he managed to follow her all the way back to where she was waiting. He still doesn't know if she let him or not. No doubt if she was trying she'd be able to evade him completely for days, without him having a single sign of him being there. 

Then it was his turn, she said, giving him a grin that left him feeling small and vulnerable. A Na'vi should be stealthy, silent, leaving no trace in the forest. "Our enemies do no see us coming." She said. "And when they do see us it the last thing they see."

And then  she chased him. Even with a head start she was on his tail in minutes, breathing down his neck and tackling him to the ground before he could lose her again and get some distance. There and then, still pinning him to the ground, she gave him a lecture on what'd he'd done wrong, then got off him and told him to do it again. 

She pushed him to run faster, jump higher, push harder, hide better, and do it all while leaving as small a trace in the jungle as possible. Those days were hellish, a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion, his only respite at night, when she left him to rest, and even then he had to make sure he didn't accidentally sleep through something trying to eat him. 

When people asked, Sylwanin says he did well, for a beginner. Isonali he says that couldn't remember most of it and couldn't tell you how he'd done if he tried.

Still, its worth it for the spark of pride in her eye when they finally go back to the hometree, Isonali tired and worn, bruised and beaten. 

She reigns their training trips back after that, taking him into short trips into the forest every couple of days. It on one of those trips that they year it, a deep mechanical roar and the creaking of splintering trees. 

"What was that?" Isonali asked, glancing towards the source of the noise. He couldn't see anything, the jungle was too thick.

"Skypeople." Sylwanin said, and took off through the trees, slinging herself up through the branches and high into the canopy. Isonali follows her, a couple of steps behind. Her training had served him well, and now he follows her more of less with ease, not hesitating to jump from branch to branch, weaving through the trees on paths that span less than a foot across. 

Through the leaves he cane see bird are circling high above, disturbed and loud, and breeze brings with it the scent of smoke. The noise only gets louder as they continue, filling the air with a robbing grate and the arid scent of metal and oil. 

Sylwanin catches his arm, drawing him to the side, and together they creep forward through the canopy, and Sylwanin pauses, shifting the leaves before them just enough for them to peek through. The machine, whatever it is, is immense, the size of a building, painted a lurid yellow and with a curved face at one side that carves out the jungle, toppling trees with a terrible clamor. It rolls over them without care, leaving them splintered in its wake, a trail of destruction marking out its path in the forest. 

"Why-" Isonali started.

Sylwanin put a finger to his lips, motion downwards. Down around the digger, minuscule compared to its enormous bulk, are figures. Men, he realized, each one armed with an dark gleam of gun metal and a transparent mask. They stick to the digger's side as it advances, training their guns back and forth as they scan the undergrowth. 

"What are they doing?" Isonali whispered. 

"They clear the forest." Sylwanin said, her eyes dark and angry. "Then they bring more machine and dig, destroying it all to gather metal rocks from the ground."

Off to their left the treetops begun to shake, and as he watches they go tumbling down, falling to the ground with a groan and ground shaking clatter, sending another wave of birds fleeing to the skies. He can't see the second digger, can't hear it over the clamor of the first, but it's effect is startling even from a distance. 

"Come." She said. "Let us go. There is nothing we can do here."

* * *

The image of destruction stuck with him during the journey back to the hometree. 

He can't stop thinking about it, wondering why. Maybe in those first days he wouldn't have carded, wouldn't have gievn it any thought at all, but now... 

Isonali'd grown fond of the jungle and thing in it. He'd spent far too much time there, seen far to many of its beauties, for the sight of its destruction, so wanton and indifferent, to leave him untouched. 

He can't help remember the night lights, the breath-taking wonder of the forest full darkness, and wonder what that stretch of forest had looked like before it was cut down. Did the same flowers growth there as in the jungle by the hometree, or something new? Did it glisten each morning in the mist, as the sun rose and the light spread, catching water like droplets of melted gold?

That sight is gone now, it remains lost amongst the splintered wood and churning mud. 

Sylwanin doesn't say anything the whole walk back, her face grim. He understands now the anger of the people. The destruction had been senseless, the excuse Sylwanin had provided seemed an insignificant explanation for it all. 

Sylwanin left him at the hometree, and Isonali takes a seat by the lake, caught up in his own thoughts. He understands now, at least a little, the anger of the warriors when they speak of the skypeople, the dark look that comes to their eyes. 

He talked to Tsu'tey about it later that night, the two of them sitting together in the high branches by the Ikran roost. Isonali likes coming up here to think and watch the Ikran and often Tsu'tey comes with him, taking the opportunity to visit Ienrra. 

"I just don't understand why they'd do it." He said. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, nor would it be the last. 

"They said at the school that the metal was valuable, that they take it back to their home and trade it for something called mon'ii." Tsu'tey said, sneering. 

"But Augustine said that she was more interested in studying the jungle." Isonali said. He didn't know why he was being so insistent. He knew the situation with the skypeople was complicated, had become intimately acquainted with the issue himself over the course of Tsu'tey and Neytiri's long fight, but now, faced with their activities himself he couldn't get it out of his head. 

"She made it sound- I don't know. Like she understood." He had seen it in her eyes, the same wonder and fascination Isonali felt when looking at the jungle. More even, because there was a passion there, a burning drive to learn and understand it all. How she could look like that and still let her people destroy the forest he couldn't understand. 

"The skypeople are strange." Tsu'tey said. "Some may care more than others but they do not see things as we do."

Isonali stared at the forest far below, contemplating Tsu'tey's answer. 

* * *

He regarded the skypeople with more wariness after that, politely turning down Neytiri's offers to take him to the school again. Instead he buried himself in his training, hoping to distract himself.  Sylwanin was becoming ever more critical of his training, ruthlessly pointing out even the most minor flaws in his archery or tracking, which Isonali took as something of a compliment. She wouldn't bother criticizing him at all if she didn't think he had the potential to do better.

His training wasn't the only thing to develop, and Isonali returned from a tracking trip one day to find Saheli grinning quite uncharacteristically, Tsamui blushing brighter that Isonali had ever seen him, an air of heady happiness floating around him.

Saheli dragged him over as soon as she see's him. "You will never guess. "She said, smile sly but happy. "He's finally done it!"

"Done what?" Isonali asks. Saheli gestures at the blushing Tsamui, who looks away. He tried to hide his smile, but it slips back, unstoppable in its joy. 

"Emyiti." Saheli said. "Tsamui finally confessed his feelings."

"Really?" Isonali said, caught utterly by surprise. Tsamui had been pining after him for so long that he'd never thought he'd actually confess. He grins. "And? What did he say?"

The answer is obvious in Tsamui's face, in every line of his body. He's radiant with happiness, and Isonali can't think of anyone who deserves it more. Tsamui has a quite sort of kindness, unassuming but supportive. He'd always had a moment whenever something was troubling Isonali, been a willing ear for his worries, kind but never intrusive. 

"Yes, of course." Saheli replied for him. Isonali didn't think Tsamui could smile any wider, but somehow he did, the reminder making his eyes crinkle and mouth turn up shyly. He didn't even rebuke Saheli for her loudness, spreading the news all around the clan. That was more telling than anything.

In the next few days its all Saheli could talk about, though Tsamui said little himself. When Isonali asks all he could do was smile, overwhelmed and struck silent with happiness. He just shrugged, a blush returning to his face. Sometime Isonali would catch him looking around, as if trying to catch a glimpse of Emyiti. The moments when he did were obvious. His face would light up, eyes sparkling with something deep and beautiful. 

He finally meets Eymiti too. He'd seen him around a couple of times, maybe even talked to him at the healing chambers back when he'd been confined there. Emyiti is cheerful and friendly, easy-going and open in a way that reminds Isonali of Lo'ak and his family. And he seems to think the world of Tsamui too, they eyes wandering together every few minutes as if drawn by magnets. Emyiti would smile and Tsamui would look away, blushing and unable to look at him. 

Which is good, Isonali supposed, because he suspected that Emyiti was anything less than head over heels for Tsamui Saheli would have stripped flesh from bone. For all that she might snap and tease Tsamui she was inordinately protective of him and Isoanli had any doubt if Tsamui was not treated as he should be for even a second Saheli would be there to rain down destruction and hell fire.

Emyiti was very lucky he was as smitten with Tsamui as Tsamui was with him. 

Saheli watched them sometimes a fond look in her eyes, almost wistful, and Isonali found himself coming to stand beside her one time. She looked away from Tsamui, giving him an undecipherable smile when he called her name. "Saheli?"

"They're going to be mated." She said. "They will not be able to have children between them but I have no doubt they will be as if a second pair of parent for every clan child."

"I'll you ever mate?" He asked. Tsamui was having his happy ending, perhaps she was wondering if she would find hers too.

She shook her head, giving him a knowing smile. There's confidence there, acceptance, even contentment. "No. For some the idea of children and a mate appeals, but not to me. My passion is for my work - nothing else."

"Huh." Isonali said. Saheli glances at him, awaiting his reaction. But all he said is: "That's fair enough I suppose."

She smiles softly at him for a second, then ruffles his hair roughly and drags him along to join Tsamui, Emyiti and the others at the evening meal. She teases Tsamui and Emyiti until they all blushing and laughing, unable to meet each others eyes, and the good mood saturates the air, spreading through the clan.

Someone brings out a set of pipes and begins playing, a love song by the sound of it, sending up a round of cheers amongst the clan. Isonali laughs and smiles, and when he turns to look Emyiti and Tsamui are sitting side by side, singing together. They don't notice him watching, too caught up in each others eyes, and he shares a grin with Saheli, clapping along to the song. 


	14. New Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added a bunch of new chapters recently. If you haven't read it in a while I'd suggest going back. I got a bit carried away and added new scenes here and there in old chapters, and chapter 3 is entirely new material. Bit of a mess, to be honest, but you guys know well by know that I go back over this story quite often.

A mating ceremony was a very private affair, done by the couple alone, but the celebrations leading up to one - if the couple chose to announce their intentions - could go from anything from a small gathering to festivities involving the entire clan. 

In this case the news spread quickly and was met with much joy. Emyiti was a respected healer, even if he was only an assistant to Mo'at, and Tsamui's kind demeanor left him with no lack of friends among the clan. Anyway, Isonali thought, he didn't think they could have kept it a secret, not with Saheli involved. She had taken to spreading the news with an unholy glee, telling people even with Tsamui standing right there, blushing at every congratulation. 

Still, for all his blushing he didn't really mind, happy to let Saheli spread the news. 

There wasn't a feast for the occasion, but a cloud of good cheer seemed to follow the couple everywhere, everyone stopping them at least once to give their blessings, wishing them good fortune together. 

If asked Isonali wouldn't be able to say when the mating itself took place, save that, if possible, after it Tsamui and Emyiti seemed even more in love, their eyes following each other, and there smiles that that much wider. Saheli was the one who caught it, narrowing her eyes at them slyly. 

"They're already done it." She said. "Look at the way they lean towards each other. Their minds have touched."

Isonali found himself blushing, looking away. After their intentions had been announced Ateyo had taken him aside to make sure he was aware of what it all involved. The conversation hadn't been awkward, but only just. Anybody else but Ateyo and his ruthless calm and Isonali would have spent the whole talk bright red, not wanting to listen to a word. 

"In case you wish to get mated yourself one day." Ateyo had said seriously when Isonali first asked him why, desperate to get out of the conversation. "It is important you know how it occurs, and what it entails."

He was only happy that Sylwanin hadn't been the one to broach the subject, though, knowing her, she wouldn't have even thought to mention it. She was so obsessed with archery and training that other things barely seemed to encroach on her thoughts, let alone something like mating. He knew distantly that she was betrothed to someone, as was customary with those next in line to be tsahik, but from what he'd seen they didn't seem to be very close. 

He'd never seen them together to be sure  despite the fact that they were both warriors. Surely they worked together every now and then, but there didn't seem to be any great attachment between the two. 

In any case, things seemed to be looking up.

* * *

He was helping Saheli weave a couple of baskets by the lake when it happened. 

Someone stumbled out from the forests, and it was only when the shouting started that he realized they were covered in blood, clutching a wound at their side and bleeding heavily. 

Isonali dropped the basket, standing up, Saheli doing the same. "What's going on?"

He jogged forward, joining the crowd that was gathering around the woman. She was saying something, sobbing, but Isonali couldn't make out the words. A murmur spread through the group, and whatever it was it sent people running for the hometree, a desperation in their faces sending a cold sweat down his back. 

Saheli grabbed someone's arm, turning them round. "What is it?" She barked. "What happened?"

"The school-" The man gasped, face pale. There were tears in his eyes. "It was the skypeople. There's been an attack. The children-"

Neytiri, Isonali thought, insides going cold. 

And then he was running for the hometree. Distantly he was aware of the warrior's passing them, sharp whistles calling for the pa'li, then they were gone, riding out. They were armed, he realized afterwards, with warbows and poisoned arrows. 

The clan was in chaos, everyone shouting, moving, only getting worse as the news spread throughout the clan. He tore through the crowd, scanning the faces. Neytiri, where was Neytiri-

Someone grabbed him by the arm and he turned ready to shout, only to see Tsu'tey. He looked confused, eyebrows drawn together, frowning. He didn't know, Isonali realised, and gasped out an explanation. "The skypeople attacked the school. I cant find Neytiri."

Tsu'tey's face twisted into a snarl, his eyes darker than Isonali had ever seen them. He grabbed Tsu'tey's arm, not sure why, except that he shouldn't let him go, not now, not when he looked like he was about to go join the warrior, go to the school- 

"Don't." He said, tightening his grip. "We have to find Neytiri."

He felt his breath leave him when he spotted her on the back of a pa'li, a warrior helping her to the ground. He rushed toward her, catching her her by the arm. She was pale and red-eyed, her chest heaving, lost for breath, but it didn't look like she was bleeding. 

"Are you okay?" He demanded. She shook her head, mutely, tears falling like rain. "Are you hurt? Neytiri?"

"Sylwanin-" She sobbed. "Sylwanin was at the school. Eywa, the children-"

And then she was clinging to his chest, sobbing. He could feel her tears against his skin, the tremble of her shoulders, and all the while all he couldn't quite understand what she'd said. He met Tsu'tey's eyes over her head. Why would Sylwanin be at the school? She never went there, not anymore. Hadn't in years, not since she'd stopped taking English lessons from Augustine. 

Then the first wails started as the warriors brought back the wounded. 

* * *

Sylwanin and some of the warriors had attacked a digger, he learnt afterwards. 

The skypeople had taken offence, opened fire, and the warriors had fled to the school, seeking protection there. It hadn't worked. The skypeople had followed them and attacked. They hadn't cared that it was a school, that there were children there, that there were their own people there. 

They had stormed the place and opened fire. 

Most of the children escaped alive but many were wounded. Augustine had shielded some of them, he heard, covering with them with her own body, knowing the skypeople wouldn't aim at their own. The casualties would have been worse without her, they said, much worse. 

Isonali watched as they brought back the first bodies, watched as their parents stumbled forwards, disbelieving, and held their bodies. Heard the wails as they felt their still chests, wiped the blood from their small faces. 

Tsu'tey would have gone after them if Isonali hadn't stopped him. The warriors had mobilized in force under Eytukan’s orders, swarming the school and chasing the skypeople back through the forest, killing any they could and driving the rest far from their lands. 

"Please." Isonali had said, catching his arm when Tsu'tey turned to join the next wave of warriors riding out. "Stay. Please." And Tsu'tey had.

Sylwanin was dead, Neytiri had said, but Isonali hadn't quite believed it, not really, not until they brought her body back and he saw the line of wounds up her chest, where the bullets had hit and bitten deep into her chest, breaking through her ribs and hitting her heart. 

He felt numb looking at her. No tears came to his eyes, no hitch to his breath, he looked at her, lying there, and still couldn't believe it. A day ago she'd been smiling, joining in the festivities for Tsamui and Emyiti's announcement. Now-

He looked away, unable to meet her blank eyes.

* * *

Eytukan's announcement to the clan was short and brutal. Isonali couldn't help but stare at his as he talked. His face could have been carved of stone, expressionless, but rage burned like a fire behind his eyes.  

Kill all skypeople in our lands, he said. Destroy all diggers. The skypeople had committed an act of war against the Omaticaya, and it was not one they would ever forgive.

Mo'at, so often the voice of reason, stood by his side and said nothing. He could see the traces of tears down her cheeks, ravaging her impenetrable calm, and a grief so potent it hurt to look at her. 

Most of the warriors were already out, had been for days, but now the rest of the clan took up arms too, sharpening their daggers to the tune of the mourning songs. It had been three days since the attack and the first body had been buried that morning. The clan had not stopped singing since, the hometree echoing with the anguished wail of the mourning songs.

Tsu'tey watched the war parties gather but he didn't join them. He wanted to, Isonali knew, with a passion. His home had been attacked, his people killed, and he wanted to avenge them. And he was right to. By all rights he should join the war party. He was a warrior now, nor near enough, and yet...

Isonali couldn't bear the thought of losing another friend. He thought of Sylwanin, laid out in the healing chamber, never to smile or make a sly comment about his archery again, and his heart squeezed in his chest. 

And so they watched from the highest reaches of the hometree as smoke rose in the distance, counted the wounded that returned from these skirmishes, and those that did not return at all. 

* * *

He found Klethayi among the waiting one afternoon, Lallan held tightly in her arms. There was a grimness to her face that had become all too common among the Omaticaya and she held Lallan as if she is afraid of letting her out of her sight. It is understandable, far too many children had died recently. 

"Lo'ak went out with the war party." She said without prompting, not turning her gaze from the forest. Isonali didn't say anything. He knew, had seen Lo'ak and Ateyo ride out, side by side at the head of a war band. No skypeople remain in their lands these days but fights still occur along the edges of their territory, retaliations going back and forth. 

Isonali wondered if it would ever end. 

He watched the forest with Klethayi and hopes, prays, that all those who left will return. He knows many will not.

* * *

Sylwanin funeral comes far too soon and far too late. 

Her body has been cleaned, her clothes replaced, and the wounds up her front hidden beneath an array of vines and flowers. They lay her deep between the roots of a tree, in a hollow dug deep, and fill the space around her with flowers. And then they sing. 

Mo'at's voice cracked halfway through the song, but she continues, even as the tears ran down her face. Neytiri stands by her father's side, her voice barely above a whisper, mouthing the words without breath, while her father's tones carry, deep and strong, through the trees. No one else speaks, no one else even opens their mouth - it is not their place to do so, not yet. 

When the song is over Mo'at steps forward, bending over her daughter one final time. She whispers something, and Isonali is just close enough to catch the words. "Eywa take you, my love, rest in her arms and let your next life be kinder."

Her family each takes a moment to say something but Isonali tuned them out, not wanting to listen. This is their final farewell, and it is not something meant for prying ears. When they step back, the songs begins again, and this time Isonali joins in, carrying the words as steadily as he could even when his breath hitched and his composure failed him halfway through.

Tsu'tey squeezed his arm, but Isonali couldn't bring himself to react. 

Watching them fill the hole back in, watching Sylwanin vanish from sight bit by bit - forever - was the worst than anything that had come before. And then the last pieces of dirt fell, and she was gone. 

Neytiri stood before the grave for a long while, long after the other mourners had left, and Isonali and Tsu'tey stayed with her, a couple of steps back. There was a flower in her hand, a flaming red, beautiful and vibrant, and Neytiri set it before the grave. The patch of dirt was bare and disturbed but it would not remain so for long and when Neytiri knelt to place the flower she dug a small hole in the soft earth, opening her hands and letting seeds fall in.

She said something, so low and quiet that Isonali couldn't make out the words, and then she stood, turning to join them. Her eyes were still red, her cheeks still damp, but there was a new energy to her. Sylwanin's energy would continue in the plants, joining the jungle, Neytiri had ensured it. 

Neytiri slotted herself between them during the walk back to the hometree, and when her hands came to clasp their's they didn't say anything, glad to offer any comfort they could. 

* * *

One week passed, then two, and the conflict with the skypeople continued. There was something in the air these days, a tension, and it hung in the air like a mist, so thick Isonali could almost feel it against his skin. The last of the funerals had been days ago and the latest fighting had brought nothing but minor injuries on their part. 

The clan sang no songs and what smiles that could be seen were rare and strained. The hometree felt like a different place entirely, and despite the dangers at the borders Isonali found himself wandering out into the jungle more and more. Sometimes Tsu'tey came with him but more often than not Isonali went alone, venturing deeper into the forest each time. 

It let him think at least, and the constant vigilance required to safely navigate the jungle's depths was a welcome distraction from the grim atmosphere of the clan. More and more there were calls to drive the skypeople off completely, free the Na'vi of them once and for all, and the voices grew louder everyday. 

But the Omaticaya were weary of bloodshed. At heart they were not a violent people while they would never forgive, never forget, for every voice that demanded war another dozen murmured for an end to the fighting. Six children had died at the school, and three warriors, and since then another seven men and women had passed, lost to the fighting along the border. 

Too many loved ones buried, too many wails of mourning echoed through the hometree. Let it end they said, and eventually it did. Eytukan kept up a fierce defense, sending frequent patrols along the borders of the clan lands, but the skypeople stopped coming - perhaps Augustine had finally managed to talk reason, too little and too late, but no one could say for certain. 

More often than not Ateyo was off on the patrols, Tsu'tey too now that the fighting had died down, and Isonali found himself aimless. Each morning he would wake with the morning light, ready for his lessons, and a second later, after opening his eyes, he would remember. 

There would be no archery lesson today. Sylwanin was gone. 

* * *

Some days it hurt more than others. Those were the days when he would wake up and not remember anything had changed until he walked downstairs and saw the gap between Mo'at and Neytiri, where Sylwanin had once sat, and the grief that still lingered so strongly on people's faces. 

On those days he could barely bare to look at his bow, leaving it by his hammock and immersing himself in the distraction of clans duties, gathering fruit and weaving baskets as single-mindedly as he could until it all fell away around him.  Then the work would end and he would look up and remember once more. 

He wasn't the only one to behave that way. The clan, for all that it was one of the main gatherings of their people in these lands, still did not number much. In a community this small everyone knew someone who'd died and everyone was affected, and it showed. Some people were more quick to snap, short tempered and on edge, while other's, like Isonali, settled into their grief with a stubborn sort of denial, focusing their efforts into whatever they could so that they wouldn't have to think about it. 

Neytiri did neither. She soldiered on, solemn and sturdy, doing everything she could to help her clan in these troubled times. She cried often, but never where people could see it, returning with red eyes and a croaking voice. 

Tsu'tey, on the other hand, became even more withdrawn, falling into long periods of worrying silence. There was something sharper about him these days, an broken edge left by the massacre, sharp and unforgiving. He spoke more harshly of the skypeople, a darkness in his eyes that didn't fade, even as the weeks turned into months.  

He visited her grave sometimes. The first time was painful. He couldn't bear to look at the grave and in the end he left after only five minutes, restless and unsure what to do, the grief still raw beneath his skin. It was hard to think that someone could be gone just like that, there one second and gone the next - snuffed out like they had been nothing. 

And he couldn't help but look at the others, Tsu'tey and Neytiri, Saheli and Tsamui, and wonder how easily they too could just disappear. Life in the jungle was dangerous and though the Na'vi were skilled at what they did some things could not be avoided. The fighting with the skypeople had died for now, but he doubted that it would be the last of it, and next time it might be Tsu'tey it took, or Neytiri, Ateyo, Lo'ak, even Klethayi and Lallan.

How delicate all their lives seemed now, how fragile. It took everything Isonali had not to gather them up and hide them in the hometree, forbid them from going outside and hope, pray, that would be enough to keep them safe. They would never go through with it if he tried, he knew, and the through made him feel small and selfish.

The second time visiting  Sylwanin‘s  grave was simultaneously easier and harder. The seed's Neytiri had planted had sprouted weeks ago and now they sported the first tiny leaves, reaching up into the light. He knelt there, watching them, for some long time, wondering if their roots had reached Sylwanin yet. Probably not, but someday they would.

It was a comforting thought, almost, because if Sylwanin couldn't be here, alive, then her place was with Eywa. Sylwanin would have taken solace in the thought her energy was moving on, he contemplated, returning to Eywa and the jungle. It was what the Na'vi believed and what Isonali, more and more, was coming to understand. 

He still wasn't sure about Eywa, if things really were the way Mo'at said they were, but he had felt the power of the Tree of Souls, heard the voices of their ancestors singing to him through the veil of time. There was something there, whatever it was, and Sylwanin may well be with it now, joining the lost voices of the past. 

Isonali stared at the sprouts. They were tiny now but perhaps one day they would grow into another tree and join the giants of the forest. 

One day, he thought, staring at the shoots, but not today, not yet.

Then he would turn away, walk deeper into the jungle, and try not to think of all the things clamoring in his head. He stayed out there sometimes, climbing high into the canopy and watching as the sun sunk below the horizon and the jungle lit up, remembering the days Sylwanin would drag him out here, run him ragged and then smile, fierce and proud. 

* * *

Neytiri didn't smile anymore, or at least nothing compared to what she used to. When she did her smile were thin, weary, and they didn't reach her eyes.

Isonali would look at her and remember the cheerful girl who'd run with the children, laughing so brightly, and not recognized her in the solemn young woman who stood before him. Oh, she was still as fiery as ever, but the easy cheerfulness to it was gone, shattered along with her innocence the moment the first bullet was fired. 

There was a spark of something in her eyes, angry and dark, and Isonali knew that if her father had permitted it she would have joined the patrols along the border, though she was no warrior, still a child in the eyes of the Omaticaya. 

Part of it, perhaps, was that she now took Sylwanin's place to be next in line to be tsahik. Before there had been no expectations - she had been the second daughter, free to do what she liked. Now the weight of her clan's welfare rested on her shoulders. She stepped up to accept its duties without complaint, but it took its toll on her. She was more serious, more reserved, the naivety of childhood gone forever. 

Isonali missed the sound of her laughter. 

Tsu'tey came to talk to him some weeks later, looking troubled. His brows were drawn together, the slightest tilt of his mouth downwards the greatest indication of his mood. He sat down beside Isonali, turning something over in his hand. 

"Eytukan has asked me to be Neytiri's betrothed." He said finally, opening his hand to reveal the carved bead in his palm. It was small, a nondescript red, but the carvings on it were telling - a mark of status, of promise. If he wove it into his hair it would be a declaration of the betrothal, and of his place as next in line to be Olo'ekytan. 

"It's a great honor." Isonali said, feeling muddled inside, like turbulent waters after a storm. This was amazing, the highest praise Eytukan could ever bestow on Tsu'tey, to entrust him with his daughter and succession as head of the clan, and yet Isonali couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy.

"I know." Tsu'tey said, staring at the bead.

"Are you going to accept?" Isonali asked. He turned his eyes to the ferns, watching an insect crawl along the leaf. 

"I don't know. If Neytiri is happy then I do not mind but-" Tsu'tey trailed off uncertainly. "We would be good together, could lead the clan well and yet-"

"You see her as more of a sister." Isonali said, putting his own feelings into words. He imagined what he would have said if Eytukan had asked him instead, and decided, after a long moment of thought, that he would have turned it down. Leading the clan is an honor but there's something about the idea of it, the responsibility for the whole clan resting on his shoulders, that makes him uncomfortable.

And mating Neytiri? She was pretty, of course, but he didn't think he'd ever see her as more than a friend, a younger sister. Dear to him, precious beyond words, but not... that. 

Tsu'tey nodded slowly, hands closing around the bead again. 

"I don't think I can really say anything." Isonali said. "Talk to her about it, tell her your worries, and let her decide. It's her life too."

"When did you become so wise?" Tsu'tey asked, a wry smile creeping onto his lips. "It feels like only a week ago that you arrived, so wild and ignorant."

"Thanks." Isonali replied dryly. Tsu'tey nudged him with shoulder and stood, going to find Neytiri.

* * *

The betrothal is announced a few days later and while there are some smiles the mood is subdued. Everyone knew of the cause of the betrothal, the death that lead to it, and in light of it the celebrations are muted, sorrow still hanging over the clan like a cloud.

Isonali caught sight of the bead in Tsu'tey's hair the next evening, hidden amongst his braids, and smiles as best he can, congratulating them. Neytiri gives him a strange look, nudging him in the side. 

"Do not act so strange." Neytiri said. "Nothing has changed. Tsu'tey and I may be betrothed, but it is only as friends. It is what is best for the clan, best for us, but do not think it will change things."

And thing's didn't, not really. The first couple of days were awkward and unsure, Isonali not quite sure how he was supposed to act not, but Neytiri and Tsu'tey refused to let it be permanent, going about as usual and dragging him along too. 

Not once did either of them mention the betrothal, save when Isonali asked, and to him it seemed that both of them preferred to pretend it hadn't even occurred, despite the beads displayed so clearly in each of their hair. 

Eventually Isonali stopped bringing it up, stopped thinking about it at all. They may be betrothed, but Neytiri had been right. Nothing had changed, not really. 

* * *

Sometimes he just sits in the tree tops, watching, letting his thoughts spin around themselves again and again until he can't bear it. Until he just has to move, to get away, or end up screaming. 

Then he runs, jogs along the high branches, on and on, faster and faster, until his legs burn and his lungs strain for air. And then he runs even harder, pushing and pushing until his blood throbs in his hears and he can't hear - can't imagine, Sylwanin voice ordering him to do better, to run faster, longer, stronger. 

When the branches end he throws himself into the air, spreading his arms wide and letting himself falls. For one moment he lets his eyes close, imagines staying like this, dropping through the air, the ground rushing to meet him, and then he opens them again and veer his body sideways, straight onto the enormous leaves of the liyiya, wide as a man is tall and twice again as long. 

The impact hits him like a bunch to the chest, knocking some of the air out of him, but he breaths through it, bringing his arms inwards and letting the leaf slow his fall. It lands only a second or two and then he's falling again, twisting to reach the next. It gets easier each time and when he finally reached the ground he rolled, taking a deep breath and filling his lungs once more - just like Sylwanin had taught him. 

His fall started a group of grazing yerik and they scatter, bleating. Isonali didn't even glance their way, already moving again the moment he got his feet below him. It's harder running on the ground, without the clear paths of the branches set before him, and he finds himself vaulting over roots and darting through thick patches of leaves.

Isonali keeps running, the pounding of his feet in the dirt and the whoosh of breath entering and leaving his lungs the only thing in his mind. He only stops when he can go no further, his limbs trembling and his pace failing him. It's only then he notices the scratches on his skin, left by hidden spines and stiff branches. 

It's the furthest from the hometree he's ever been on foot but he knows, almost, where he is. The tree's began thinning out a while ago, and before him stretched the closest thing that comes to plains for days and days in any direction, a wide river and stretches of long grasses filling the curve of a long low valley. 

This is they way the talioang come when they migrate, he knew, travelling from the great plains far to the south, where the Siwana'ate clan lives. Follow the valley back and it would lead him back towards the hometree. 

But that's a thought for later. Right now his legs are shaking, and even as he takes a step forward they threaten to collapse out from under him. Already the burn is catching up to him, making itself known through the heavy numbness in his legs and the longer he stands still the harder it threatens to hurt.

He should keep walking, he knew, give his muscles a cool down, but he takes one step forward and his leg's give out entirely, dropping him to his knees. He sits there a moment, surrounded by grasses that reach up to his shoulders, and his breaths leaves him in a whoosh as he slumps back into the grass completely. 

It probably not safe. Predators are always around, and he should have known better than to push himself so hard, make himself so vulnerable, and alone too, but Isonali couldn't bring himself to care. The voices clogging his head were finally gone and he could finally just breath.

Isonali lay there, listening to the insects moving through the grass and the slow trickle of the river beyond, and finally felt something like peace. It'll come back, he knew, Sylwanin, the skypeople, everything, but for now he relishes their absence. Because in this one moment when he thinks of Sylwanin it's not the grief that comes to mind - it's the good, her laughter, her skill, the glint of pride in her eyes when he finally understood what she was trying to teach him-

Tomorrow he will do better, he promised himself. It was what Sylwanin had always said - no matter how bad he was that day, how many times he missed the shot, bruised himself with the string - tomorrow he would do better. And he might not be perfect even then, perhaps never, but that didn't matter. He would do better, and the day after that too, again and again until he could breath again without feeling the weight in his chest. 

He drags himself up for a while and makes his way to the river, drinking small amounts, and slowly, not trusting himself not to throw it up after what he's just put himself through. His limbs feel like they're made of wood, they creak when he moves, like a branch about to be broken and he stays sitting at the river sometime longer.

* * *

The walk back to the hometree took hours and in the end Isonali gave up finishing it in one day, dragging his tired limbs up a tree and plonking himself in a patch of overgrown moss. He's asleep before he even has a chance to roll over, not even realizing a root it was digging into his side uncomfortably until he woke up feeling vaguely bruised. 

When he finally got back he felt lighter somehow, and could even manage look at his bow.

It's not much, Isonali thought, as he held the bow in hand, struggling with the idea of practicing without Sylwanin, his teacher... his friend. Its not much, but it's something. 

The next morning when he got up he took the bow with him. He didn't know if he'd use it, didn't know if he'd even look at it at all, but it was a start.  


	15. First Blood

Almost two months had passed since the massacre at the school when Augustine showed up in the forest, her metal flying machine parked well beyond the borders of the Omaticaya's lands. It's only the fact that she came alone that stopped the patrol from shooting her on sight. Instead they bind her and bring her to the hometree to Eytukan for judgement. 

The sight of her sends the clan into a fury, gathering in a crowd at the central hometree. Some hiss as she is dragged past, others look on impassive.

"Eytukan should slit her throat." The woman standing beside him said, and Isonali glanced at her, understanding. He had seen her at the funerals, gently lifting her son's body into his grave. The child had been seven years old, and he had died choking on his own blood, skypeople bullets buried in his body. 

Spotting Tsu'tey near the center, Isonali slipped through the crowd, joining him by the skull of Toruk. Tsu'tey's face is hard, unreadable, but Isonali know's he's conflicted about this. Any skyperson in their lands is a danger - should be killed - but it was Augustine.

The warriors force her to her knees in front of the main spiral, one putting her dagger to Augustine's neck to keep her from moving. Augustine's hair is in disarray, her clothes dirty from being dragged through the jungle, but she is otherwise unharmed. Isonali can't help being slightly relieved. He hadn't liked her, hadn't liked her people even before the shooting, but she was a good woman, trustworthy. He didn't want to see her dead. 

The arrival of Eytukan silenced the crowd and everyone drew closer, waiting her hear what he'd say. Eytukan's face was impassible, and looking at him Isonali truly could not say if Augustine was going to die that day. 

"Why have you come?" Eytukan demanded. His tone brooked no argument. Augustine would answer, and answer quickly, or she would die. 

"To talk." Augustine said, she shifted, moving to stand, and paused when the dagger pressed closer to her neck. She glanced at Eytukan, gesturing to the knife. "Please."

A minute incline of Eytukan's head sent the warriors stepping back, their weapons withdrawn. They stayed a pace behind her, daggers in their hands, but didn't stop her when she got up, dusting her shirt as she went.

"If you had been another you would already be dead." Eytukan said, regarding her coldly. "But some in the clan remember what you did, the lives you saved that day. The Omaticaya do not forget. Your life will be spared, but next time we will not be so merciful."

Eytukan gestured to the warriors, already turning away. "Take her back to her ma'shi'nee and see that they leave."

The warriors nodded, taking a hold of Augustine's arms. "Wait!" She said, yanking her arm free and taking a step forward. In an instant a dozen arrows were trained on her, the children being pulled back, away from the conflict and deeper into the hometree. Tsu'tey tensed by his side, hand reaching for his own dagger, but he didn't bare it, not yet. 

Eytukan turned back, waiting. Augustine took a deep breath. "This isn't the reason I came. My people wouldn't let me, they said it wouldn't be safe, but I had to come. The fighting can't go on. The attack was unforgivable, and I'm not saying you should forgive it, but how much more blood has to be shed?"

There was not a single noise from the crowd, each and every person holding out for Eytukan's response. Isonali's breath caught in his throat, hand gripping Tsu'tey's arm tightly. 

"Then tell your people this." Eytukan said, stepping forward. "No more attacks shall be made, but you are not welcome in our lands. Enter it again, even you Augustine, and you will be cut down. No exceptions. We will not be so kind a second time."

Then Eytukan was gone, striding off through the hometree. The warriors kept their bows trained on Augustine as they lead her away, back into the forest. Isonali watched them go. Augustine had met his eyes when she passed him, and he hadn't looked away, meeting her gaze steadily and nodding respectfully. She may be of their enemy but she had been a friend to the clan, had saved their children, and that deserved to be remembered. 

* * *

He found Neytiri later, sitting by the skull of Toruk and staring at the place Augustine had knelt.

"Is it bad," She asked, her voice quiet and conflicted, "that I'm happy she's alive? The skypeople killed Sylwanin, killed children, and yet, when father released her all I could think was that I was relieved she was safe."

"I don't think so." Isonali said, sitting beside her. "She was your friend, of course you'd care about her."

"But Sylwanin-" Neytiri choked, tears spilling down her face. "They killed her, like she was nothing. Sometimes I want to go, hunt them down and just-" She cut herself off, rubbing at her eyes roughly. "I thought that I wanted to kill them all, but Augustine-"

Isonali stared at his hands, not sure what to say. "I think..." He said hesitantly. "That because of what they did it’s easy to see them as monsters, all of them, even when you know it wasn't all of them - that some of them, like Augustine, aren't like that."

Neytiri sniffled. She was staring at him, hanging on his every word, and Isonali couldn't help but feel false. He didn't know what he was talking about, not really, and nothing he could say would ever be enough to explain all this - any of it - and yet Neytiri looked like she believed him so strongly. 

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "Sorry. I'm not making any sense."

"It's not your fault." Neytiri said. "I know you cared about Sylwanin too."

"She was... a good friend, and a good teacher." Isonali said. "But I know that's nothing compared to losing a sister."

"No." Neytiri said quietly. "But you cared. It... helps."

"Yeah." Isonali said miserably. "It does."

* * *

For all that the massacre had rocked the clan, life went on. There was an endless list of things to among the clan and it ate away the days, turning weeks into months. The long twilight was approaching and the clan had to collected the stores to get through it. There would always be some food of course, but the long twilight was when it was most scarce and the predators most active, making it safer to prepare a store beforehand. 

From what Isonali had gathered it had something to do with the position of the planet's. Ateyo had explained it to him long ago during one of his earliest lessons, telling him of the different seasons and the darkness that came twice a year.  Already Isonali could see the first signs of it - the days were ending earlier, Payina growing larger in the sky with every passing day. Soon the gas giant would fill the sky entirely, covering the sun and sinking them into a twilight that would last for weeks. 

Then, when the sun returned, there would be another rainy season as the oceans soaked up the light and the mists rose once more, gathering in the sky and pouring down across the jungle. The rainy season wasn't the same everywhere. In the great plains in manifested itself in a drizzle that a never seemed to end, while on the eastern sea it came as a series violent storms, throwing waves up against the cliffs and grounding all but the bravest Ikran riders. 

The atmosphere in the clan lightened a little with the work, everyone too busy to dwell on the events of the last month. Isonali too found himself affected. As time went on it was easier to think of Sylwanin without hurting, no longer having to run himself into the ground before he could sit back and remember the good things. It helped perhaps that the skirmishes with the skypeople had ended completely after Augustine's visit - the skypeople no longer came near Na'vi lands, sticking well beyond the border and where they might chance running into to Omaticaya patrols. 

It was an uneasy peace and a cold one, but no warriors returned with new injuries, returned dead, and Isonali though that made it all worth it. 

Whenever he had time between collecting fruit and tubers, trapping insects and helping clean and bring back the spoils of the hunter's Isonali practiced with his bow. It wasn't the same without Sylwanin but Isonali did the best he could, keeping her lessons firm in mind as he nocked an arrow and drew, letting the arrow fly on the out breath. 

Sylwanin had drilled the proper forms into him and set him slaving away at it until he had the proper strength for it - and now it paid off. He could hold the arrow drawn for a good five minutes before he felt the first tingles of strain and hadn't bruised himself with the slap of the string in weeks. His aim had always been good, Sylwanin had said, but it was only now that Isonali was coming to appreciate what she had meant. The shift of the bow, adjustment of the height all seemed to come easily, and when he loosed the arrow it would always come at least close to it goal. 

Speed was now the limiting factor, because even if he could aim well now, it was different from being able to do it in an instant and on a moving target, like the hunt required. So he worked on that, increasing the speed of his draw and balancing it against accuracy. Eventually he would get both, but until then he had to work on it. 

Neytiri came and watched him sometimes. She had asked him about it, the first time, how he could practice so easily without sinking into grief. "We used to carve beads together, for mother." Neytiri explained. "But I can't- I tried once and all I could think about was her, how she was never coming back, how we'd never finish the shawl we were making for mother. I couldn't even finish a single bead."

"I don't know." Isonali said. "Just- I think it's what she would have wanted. She would probably have hit me over the head a long time ago if she'd seen how little practice I've been doing."

Neytiri started bringing her bow too after that, practicing along side him. She was still better than him, with several years more experience, but Isonali was learning quickly and he like to think he was starting to catch up. Still, it bruised his pride a little when Neytiri beat him three time in a row they made a contest out of it. 

"Don't worry about it." Neytiri said afterwards. "For someone who started only a year ago you're very good."

"Thanks." Isonali said as they went to collect their arrows. He'd felt slightly aimless in his training without Sylwanin there to guide him and he knew that flaws were slipping through here and there, but bad habits were difficult to recognize them without someone there to point them out. Neytiri was good but she wasn't yet at the level where she could teach someone else. Isonali was left with a bit of a conundrum - the clan was more busy than ever, the warriors too, and often Ateyo didn't have time for their regular lessons, let alone the addition of Isonali's archery training. 

He mentioned as much to Neytiri, trying to think of who he might asked, and was left stunned when he returned the next day to find her standing there with Eytukan, each with a bow in hand. Isonali doubted he managed to keep the surprise off his face, and when he came closer he shot Neytiri a curious look. 

"I see you, Eytukan." Isonali said respectfully. Eytukan was a good man and a strong leader, but Isonali couldn't say he'd really had much chance to talk to the man and suddenly being faced with the prospect of spending an entire afternoon with him was slightly intimidating. 

"Neytiri tells me that Sylwanin was teaching you." Eytukan said, and there was a flash of hurt in his eyes, there and gone again in an instant when he continued. "And that she left you training unfinished."

"Um-" Isonali hesitated. Don't worry about it, he almost said. It's nothing important. Except Eytukan's face was determined. He had already decided to do this, Isonali realized, every argument  dying on his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to lie and protest it, not when Eytukan seemed so determined. "Yeah."

"I taught Sylwanin in her time." Eytukan said. "But in the end she surpassed even me. She intended to train you, and I shall complete that wish now that she cannot do it herself."

Isonali nodded mutely, not daring to say anything. "It would be my honor." He added hesitantly. 

Eytukan nodded. He wasted no time, ordering Isonali to go through his forms. Isonali made more mistakes than normal and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. Eytukan's gaze left him nervous and he couldn't help feel that, every second, he was being judged. 

But Eytukan didn't say anything, watching him fire time and time again without a single comment. By now Sylwanin would already have been stepping him, scolding him for this or that bad habit, but Eytukan just watched, wordless. Somehow that was more nerve-wracking than even Sylwanin's most ruthless comments. 

"Sylwanin taught you well. There are some flaws, but it is to be expected" Eytukan said. "Return tomorrow, practice with me and my daughter." His tone left no room for refusal and Isonali nodded meekly. 

"Thank you." He said, not at all sure how he felt about any of it. 

Eytukan was no more talkative the next day. He stepped closer once or twice to correct some error in Isonali's posture but didn't say anything apart from that, practicing with his own bow for the majority of the time. Isonali found himself watching him while he collected his arrows, mesmerized. Eytukan's bow was one of the largest he'd ever seen almost three meters in length with a draw weight that put his own to shame - and yet Eytukan drew it like it was nothing, holding it drawn without a single sign of strain. 

His aim was impeccable, hitting targets that Isonali had trouble even making out in the shadows of the jungle. Isonali drew his eyes away, going back to collecting the last of his arrows. He got back into position, arrow on the string, correcting the slight off-tilt to his elbow like Eytukan had shown him last time, and fired. 

When he looked up again Eytukan was watching him. Isonali froze, confused, but Eytukan just nodded approvingly before going back to his own practice. Isonali was left staring at him for a couple more moments, before he shook his head, going back to his own work. 

It continued in that vein. Eytukan fixed his more obvious mistakes and kept them company while they practiced, but he never seemed to take an active approach to teaching them, content to let them stumble through their mistakes and point them out as they went along. Isonali ended up approaching him hesitantly after one training session, asking if there was anything he should try to improve. 

"Learn to recognize your mistakes," Eytukan said, "and why they are mistakes. You have a habit of holding your elbow wrong, and it throws your aim to the right a little. Recognise it, fix it, and you will not do it again."

Isonali nodded and strove to do just that. And maybe, Eytukan's silence wasn't so strange, he thought. Sylwanin had done most of the heavy lifting already, scraping him into some semblance of skill, and all that was left was to iron out the kinks in his technique. 

* * *

Tsu'tey was closer than ever to becoming a warrior. He was advancing through his training with a speed unusual even for the most serious and studious Na'vi and it was drawing people's attention. Already some were whispering that he was going to be the clan's next great warrior. 

Perhaps that was why Eytukan had selected him for Neytiri, Isonali mused. No one ever doubted that Tsu'tey was going to be good at what he did but it was only now, in the rigors of training to become a warrior, that his aptitude for it was truly coming to light. 

And no wonder, Isonali thought, with the amount of time Tsu'tey spent training. Even before Isonali had joined the clan Tsu'tey had been hard-working, devoting hours to his archery and riding, and now he spent more time than ever training. More often than not Isonali was forced to tag along on his training or risk not seeing him at all for days on end. 

Which was how he ended up in situations like this, sparring with the warriors, he thought desolately. Not that any of them were going hard on him, all of them amused by his bumbling efforts at sparring - a little humiliating perhaps, considering the ease with which most of them managed to dump him on his butt when they actually tried, but not the most painful thing he'd done either. 

"It is good training nonetheless." Ateyo said. Presumably some of the other warriors had told him, because Isonali hadn't gotten around to mentioning it himself. He might even have seen Isonali there himself, being thrown around in the dirt by the warriors. Even Tsu'tey, who'd only started his training a couple of months ago, could toss Isonali around like the best of them.

Still, they went easy on him and he never left with more than a few bruises. 

"In case something happens again?" Isonali asked, a little darkly. The Na'vi hadn't fought against each other in centuries and while they preferred the bow, more and more the warriors were brushing up on close combat. Just in case. 

Ateyo's silence was answer enough, and Isonali sighed, trying to take his mind off it. 

The information put a new edge to his time with the warriors and Isonali put a little more effort into absorbing the tips they gave him even as they tossed him into the dirt. Stay light on your feet, eyes on your opponent, in and out quick, don't let them catch you. 

The first time Isonali managed to take one down was a fluke. He'd been sparring against Tsu'tey, circling around each other at the center of a group of watching warriors. Tsu'tey made little grabs for him, always darting back out of reach when Isonali tried to retaliate, and then Tsu'tey lunged, aiming to get Isonali off balance and send him to the ground, like he always did. 

It was more luck than anything, Tsu'tey got distracted for a second, his eyes flickering away, and Isonali ducked out of the way of his lunge, slipping around his side and knocking his leg out from under with a well placed kick. Tsu'tey went sprawling into the dirt, while Isonali danced away, knowing better than to stick around even when the opponent had fallen. He'd seen far too many of the warriors start to walk away, secure in their victory, only for their opponent t seize their feet and send them tumbling into the dirt too. 

Tsu'tey blinked up at him from the dirt, surprised, and the watching warriors broke out into sudden cheers, a couple of them clapping him on the back forcefully. Isonali glance around, surprised himself, and then stepped forward, offering Tsu'tey a hand. 

"You are improving." Tsu'tey said, smiling. "We could make a warrior of you yet."

Isonali shrugged. "Not really. It was a lucky shot."

If there was one thing the massacre at the school had taught him it was that he didn't want to be a warrior. He thought of it, of the potential war looming on the horizon, and it left him feeling exhausted and wrung out, sinking into dark moods that trapped him for days. He wanted to help the clan, he truly did, and if the time came he knew he would fight with the rest of them, but there was something about the idea of being a warrior that left him deep and inexplicably uncomfortable. 

He said as much to Ateyo, broaching the subject somewhat hesitantly one afternoon. "I just... I don't think I could ever be happy doing it." He said, not meeting Ateyo's eyes. The admission felt like a failure, like a betrayal of the Omaticaya, but he couldn't help it. The thought of war, of the responsibility of the clan's safety, everyone's lives, on his shoulders kept him awake at night, tugging at things deep inside him that he couldn't name. 

"It is not the path for everyone." Ateyo agreed calmly. He looked at Isonali, saw the misery plain across his features. "There is no cowardice in following another path."

"I know." Isonali said quietly, but even to his own ears it sounded false. "And I do want to help but..."

Ateyo nodded. "Perhaps it would help to see the others paths, the options laid out before you. Warriors are important, but they are not the only part of the clan. Healers are just as important, as are hunters. I know you have already shown some interest in weaving. It is a fine art, and one that supports our clan every day."

"I think that would be good." Isonali said, not really thinking much of it. He hadn't put that much thought into it all beyond not wanting to be a warrior. He seemed to stand at the cross-roads, too many options stretched before him, and the more he thought the harder it was to distinguish between the paths, each of them leading to parts unknown.

"Come, I have a little while free. Show me how your archery has been improving." Ateyo said. "I hear Eytukan has been giving you lessons. How has it been going?"

"All right." Isonali said, shrugging. "It's... different, I guess. He doesn't teach at all like Sylwanin did." 

"Each person has their own style." Ateyo said. "Eytukan is one of the finest archers in the clan, one of our best warriors, though he may not go on patrols as much as he used to. You could learn a lot from him."

Isonali nodded, fingers brushing along the fletching of one of his arrows as they headed towards the training area. It wouldn't be to busy at this time of day, especially with everyone busy preparing for the long twilight. 

* * *

To be honest he hadn't expected much to come of Ateyo's offer and he was caught off guard when Ateyo sought him out early the next morning, Emyiti at his side. 

"I have talked to Mo'at and some of the healers." Ateyo said when they were done making their greetings. "They said they would be happy to have you around for a couple of days, if you desire. It would be an opportunity to watch their work and do as they do, test the path they walk."

Isonali, still caught off guard by the suddenness of it all, nodded. "Um- sure. Of course."

Ateyo and Emyiti joined him for the rest of the morning meal, keeping a light chatter about the news from the other clans and how the preparations for the long twilight were going. It was fast approaching and in a couple of weeks Paniya would completely engulf the sky. 

After that Emyiti lead him back to the healing chambers. Many of the apprentices met them happily, remembering Isonali well from his stint staying there, back in his early days with the clan. He'd seen them around in the year since but hadn't really had a chance to catch up with them. 

The work itself was interesting, and far more demanding than he would have expected. Major injuries weren't very frequent but there was a constant stream of people with sniffles and minor injuries from hunting, let alone the elderly and children, who seemed to have no end of issues. Isonali sat off to the side most times, watching the healers work, sometimes being sent outside during some of the more serious cases. 

And when the healers weren't helping people they spent their time preparing medicine. Much of it was difficult to make, even more often the ingredients dangerous or difficult to acquire, and it was always in demand. Hours went into every salve and remedy, and the amount of time spent grinding ingredients and boiling them together, mixing and cutting, was astounding. And that excluded the amount of time it took to get the things in the first place. Some of the rarer ingredients had to be traded for with the other clans and while others could be found in the jungle nearby, it could take days of searching to find them.

Isonali stayed with them for three days and every evening he left exhausted, if not by the physical work then by the mental stress of dealing with the patients. Much of the time little could be done to help them and while the healers tried their best it wasn't always enough. 

It didn't end there. After the healers Ateyo sent him off to observed the weavers. Much of it he already knew from his time hanging around Sylwanin and Tsamui and it was a relaxing break compared to the stressful, if rewarding, work of the healers. More than once they had him climb onto the great loom and help with some of the stitches, singing all the while, and laughing when he stumbled, awkwardly clambering around the complex structure of the loom. 

The work wasn't always easy, most of it complicated enough to make his head spin, and while Isonali had fun, he found himself slightly bored by the end of the second day, the endless weaving proving a little tiresome after the seventh hour in a row. Relaxing maybe, but not the most interesting pastime.

Ateyo simply nodded when he came to him, saying that weaving wasn't for him, and introduced him to the nest person. Singing, crafting, cooking, even trading between the clans and acting as a messenger - there were more jobs than he could count to be filled among the clan, and Isonali tried them all out in a dizzying set of days. The singing was awkward, the cooking surprisingly interesting, and while he couldn't easily go on a trip with the traders or messengers without an Ikran, they told him tales of their work, explained the things they did, stories of their travels. 

But it was the hunting that was by far the most interesting. Isonali didn't even mind having to get up at the crack of dawn, any bother was far outweighed by the sight of the jungle so early in the day - some of the plants still growing and the mists lying low over the canopy. No matter how many times he went out the sight still left him in awe. 

His time with the hunters reminded him painfully of Sylwanin. When they showed him the tracks and lead him through the dawn forest her voice echoed in his ears and he felt like she would appear at his side any moment, smacking him on the head and scolding him for crashing through the forest to so loudly.

But she never did, and Isonali turned to the hunters, listening as they showed him a couple of different types of tracks and trying to ignore the painful clench in his heart. 

"It's a great help, having you here." Ora'nya, said as they carried a yerik back to the hometree, slain and cleaned only an hour hence. Most of his work the last couple of days had been with her. She was sweet, if somewhat shy, and even days after they'd been working together she remained meticulously polite and good-natured, even after long hours tracking prey through the jungle. Looking at her it was hard to believe she could take down a fully grown talioang bull by herself, a creature almost four times her size with ease, but apparently she had a knack for it if what the other hunter said was true. "With the long twilight approaching there's more work than ever, and another set of hands is a blessing." 

"It's my pleasure." Isonali replied, and found he meant it. Each successful hunting trip left him with a satisfaction - even only cleaning the kills and helping haul them back he was helping support the clan, feeding them, providing for them. It was a little silly perhaps, but it felt like he was giving something back, doing something for the clan to repay them for everything they'd done for him.

He'd taken to going with the hunters most mornings, reserving his afternoons for training and helping out with other clan duties. Isonali was coming to know most of the hunters, becoming acquainted with even those he didn't go on trips with during the early morning meal, sitting around the fire together hours before most of the other Na'vi even began to stir. 

They were a bit of an odd bunch, many of them more solitary in nature, prone to stopping by only briefly to collect food before disappearing into the forest - sometimes not seen again for a day or two, returning with a string of smaller hauls and often a basket of whatever the foraged along the way. Other's took a more cooperative approach, heading out in groups to try and take down larger prey or try their luck in the rivers and lakes, sometimes being able to fish up creatures larger than Isonali himself, slow bottom feeders with mouths so large he could fit his whole arm inside. 

Most days Isonali headed out with Ora'nya, happy to go where she lead, but as he became more acquainted with the groups he received more invitations from other hunters, even some of the more solitary hunters going so much as to invite him along every now and then. Ora'nya encourage him to take them up of their offers. "Each hunter has their specialty, their own methods. You should take the opportunity to learn, see which best fits you."

Which was how Isonali ended up swimming in one of the larger jungle lakes, one end of a net in hand, another hunter swimming a few meters away holding the other side of the net. Together they  were following a school of smaller fish, tightening the entrance to the net as more fish slipped in, unaware they were drifting into a trap. 

His lungs were burning from holding his breath so long, but Isonali held on a little while longer, waiting until they'd caught another couple of fish before signalling to the other hunter. Together they pulled the next shut completely, trapping the fish in what was essentially a bag, and kicked upwards, breaking the surface a few moments later. Isonali gasped, air rushing to his lungs and leaving him almost dizzy. 

Ki'lyi'lya, the other hunter, grinned at him, helping him haul the net closer to the surface. The fish had started to struggle within, the next dragging downwards with some force, and Isonali kick harder to make up for it, helping keep the net high. They headed towards the shore, dragging the net behind them, kicking away the few creatures of middling size that came to prod at the net, aiming for the fish within. At first glance they were quite intimidating, mouths full of needle teeth and eyes that glowed like moons in the depths of the murky water, but they didn't attack, a whack or two usually enough to drive them away. 

Another hunter was waiting for them on the shore of the lake, and she helped them haul the net out of the water, placing it well away from the water's edge before they opened it and went through the fish one by one, ending their misery with a quick cut at the back of the neck, behind the edge of the skull. That done they packed them all away in baskets and headed back into the lake, ready to try again. 

"Why don't we take any of the bigger ones?" Isonali asked, neatly cutting one fish and dropping it in a basket, already reaching for the next. The blood had stopped bothering him a while ago, and now he barely noticed it at all. "The ones that try steal the fish."

"They don't taste good." Ki'lyi'lya replied. "And they're mildly poisonous. You can eat one or two, but any more than that and the poison stays in your body, makes you sick for months."

"Huh." Isonali said, glancing back at the lake. "Have you ever been bitten by one?"

"Several times." Ki'lyi'lya replied, shifting his leg to reveal a ring of white scar tissue the size of a fist. There were several dotted across his legs, but they were old wounds, earned years ago and mostly faded. He laughed when Isonali blanched, glancing back at the lake nervously. Not half an hour ago he'd whacked one of the creatures in the face with his foot - what if it had taken offense and taken a chunk out of him instead?

"Don't worry about it." Ki'lyi'lya said, still chuckling. "They don't usually attack unless you're injured and they only live in the deeper lakes. It's the payoang you have to watch out for. They're about this big- "He motioned the length of his arm, about a meter." - with strong scales and a nasty bite. I once saw a swarm of them drag a talioang into the water - it looked like Eywa herself was bleeding into the water, the way the lake went red."

"You should watch out for paywlls too." The other hunter, Ni'wiya, added. "They're not as dangerous, but they can hurt quite a bit if you don't pay attention. They grow at the bottom of rivers and glow even during the day, tentacles attaching to things that get too close. They wouldn't be able to catch you, but their stings can hurt for hours after they touch you."

"I don't think I ever want to go swimming again." Isonali replied bleakly, sending up a wave of laughter amongst the hunters. 

"If you avoided everything that could kill you, you'd never be able to leave the ground cavern of the hometree." Ki'lyi'lya laughed. "Even Ikran have killed their fair share of Na'vi. It doesn't happen as much any more, but the Iknimaya is still a dangerous trial."

"You'll get over it." Ni'wiya said confidently. She grinned. "You don't seem the type to cower at the first sign of danger. You'll be fine."

Isonali nodded skeptically, not sure whether he should feel reassured or even more concerned, and went back to processing the fish. A couple more nets and they'd be done for the day. Then all they had to do was take them back to the hometree and smoke them. A messy business, and one that left him coughing nastily when he breathed in too much smoke, but essential if they wanted the fish to last the length of the long twilight. 

"We'll have to switch to one of the other lakes soon." Ki'lyi'lya mused, staring out at the water. At Isonali's curious look he continued. "Take too much from one lake and it displeases Eywa. Then she only gives small fish. Better to switch between the lakes and rivers, leave them a season or two before coming back."

"That makes sense, I suppose." Isonali replied. The Omaticaya lands stretched to the horizon and they foraged and hunted throughout it all, often putting in the extra effort to hunt further from home to stop the herds around the hometree getting depleted. Seasonal hunts were a different matter, happening when the migrating herd drew close enough for a large hunt to be organised. Then the Omaticaya mobilized in force, replenishing stores that lasted for seasons. 

The Talioang hunt had been one such seasonal hunt, but there had not been a proper large hunt since Isonali arrived. Those only occurred every several years, when the apxe'taron herds returned. Then the Omaticaya would join forces with the Siwana'ate on a hunt that lasted for weeks and not put a dent in the numbers of the giant herds of the plains. 

From what he understood of the hunter's gossip it was possible that a great hunt might occur in the next year or two, but in reality there was no way of knowing, not until a messenger from the Siwana'ate arrived announcing a sighting of the herds. And there was no telling when that would be - it could be next season or in five years. The passage of the herds was unpredictable at best, even to the most experienced hunters. 

* * *

He was stalking a small herd of yerik with Ora'nya when it happened. They had tracked them to a grow at the bottom of a steep valley and now they were crouching in the undergrowth, watching the herd nibble at a bunch of ferns. Ora'nya was pointing them out to him one by one.

"There's the lead female." She whispered, pointing towards a slender yerik near the center of the group. "She's the one who breeds. Beside her is the male, her mate. We don't' want to take either of them - the herd would collapse without them. Instead we want one of the other females, the ones who aren't breeding." Ora'nya motioned at the other yerik, all of them slightly smaller than the dominant pair. 

Isonali nodded, then made to shift aside, making way for Ora'nya to take the shot. She reached for her bow, then paused, glancing at him. "Do you want to try?"

"But I've never done it before." Isonali said nervously. "My archery is improving, but I'd never able to kill them with one shot. Sylwanin always said I should wait until I'm more skilled."

Ora'nya blinked at him, confused, then smiled gently. "She must have been a tough teacher. She was a very talented archer."

"Most demanding I've ever had." Isonali replied, his smile bitter-sweet.

"She must have thought highly of you, pushing you as hard as she did." Ora'nya said. "If you feel you're up to it, try. If not - well, we'll still have one yerik to bring back."

Isonali bit his lip, gently pushing aside a couple of leaves to glance at the herd. Sylwanin had told him again and again the importance of the killing shot, of not letting something suffer for any longer than required. What if he fired and missed completely? Or worse, hit it but not enough to take it down, injuring just enough that it would suffer on, weakened, easy prey to anything else that came looking?

But he couldn't deny the idea excited him. This was what he'd been working towards for months, improving his aim, his draw, everything so that he could one day take up the bow and use it with purpose. He wanted to see if he could do it, how far he really had advanced with his archery. 

Isonali glanced at Ora'nya, then back at the herd, caught in a hideous moment of indecision. Then he nodded, drawing an arrow from his quiver. "I'll do it."

Ora'nya nodded. "You know which to aim for?"

"The female on the left. She's got her side to us - a good shot at her neck. She's favoring one of her legs, maybe injured a while ago, but she's still got a good bit of bulk despite the injury."

"Good." Ora'nya said and shifted to the side, letting him take the central position and the better shooting spot. Isonali moved slowly, unslinging his bow and drawing an arrow back across the string. He must have done this a thousand times before but this time it felt different. His heart was beating quickly in his chest, his hands growing slippery with sweat, and no matter how many times he swallowed his throat remained dry. 

The arrow started to tremble, hands shaking, and Isonali took a deep breath, stilling himself. He threw his mind back to Sylwanin's lessons. Elbow up, correct the position of his wrist, breath in, aim slowly, and exhale. He barely felt the arrow fly, though the twang of the string echoed in his ears, drowning out any other sound. At his side he heard Ora'nya fire, releasing her own arrow only a moment after his. 

The herd scattered, bleating, and in the confusion Isonali couldn't tell if he'd hit one. He could smell blood - the thick tang of it heavy in the air, but for the life of him he couldn't see where it had come from. His hands were trembling once more, his heart a deafening drumbeat in his chest. Ora'nya grabbed his arm and Isonali startled, jerked from his own thoughts. 

"Look." She said, gesturing into the ferns. The followed her gaze, noting the blood streaking the leaves, until he spotted blue among the undergrowth, the hide streaked with pale yellow. The yerik lay slumped in the ferns, the bright fan around its face hanging limp, and there, in the side of its neck was an arrow. It was a little off from where he'd been aiming, closer to the shoulder, but it had sunk deep enough to hit the heart.

"Well done." Ora'nya said. "I think Sylwanin would have been very proud of you. It's a skilled shot for a first hunt - a sign of good fortune."

Isonali blinked at it, still not quite able to believe it. He knelt there, staring at the yerik, as Ora'nya went to collect her own, dragging it over next to his. It was silly, but he still couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. "I've killed fish before, cleaned yeriks a dozen times. I don't know why this is effecting me this much."

"The first kill can often be difficult." Ora'nya said. "By your hand a creature is dead once use to be alive. In return you must honor it. Thank it for its sacrifice and ensure that it did not die in vain."

Isonali nodded, then set about helping Ora'nya clean the kills. Halfway through she gently pushed him aside, telling him she'd take care of it after the third time his trembling hands made his knife slip and almost open the guts. Ora'nya was left with the brunt of the work, but she didn't seem to mind. 

They carried the yerik back to the hometree in silence, Isonali's own kill balanced on his shoulders. It was heavy, beyond just the strain of its physical weight. This was a creature he had killed, a life he had taken, and when the guilt started to creep in Isonali thought of what it was for - the clan, his friends, family. Thanks to this creature they would eat, be healthy and happy for one more day. After that he couldn't find himself to be guilty at all. 


	16. The Long Twilight

When the long twilight finally came it left Isonali with mixed feelings. The jungle was cooler, the mists persisting through all hours of the day, and the predators of the forest roamed with a greater hunger than than ever, taking advantage of the darkness to eat their fill again and again, the sounds of the hunt always audible in the distance. 

Dangerous undoubtedly, and yet Isonali couldn't help but find it beautiful. Ever since Payina took it's position in the sky, blocking out the sun completely, the night lights had not dimmed. If anything they grew brighter, reaching a vibrancy in the dead of the long twilight unseen during the rest of the year. After a couple of days his eyes adjusted completely to the dark, leaving him with a view of the jungle unlike anything before. Creatures rarely seen wandered through the dark and the bright allure of the jungle's flower and day-time delight's gave way to a different kind of beauty, splashed across the world in luminous shades of pink and purple. 

The clan was less active than usual, their foraging efforts dying down as they turned to their supplies to carry them through. There was no doubt that if they needed to the Omaticaya would be able to provide for themselves just fine even in the extended darkness - Na'vi were as proficient hunters at night as any other time of day - but most preferred to avoid the heightened risk of running into predators, instead choosing to spend the time catching up on all the hobbies and work they usually set aside. 

Music rang through the hometree at all hours of the night as people brought out their instruments and put the spare hours to use teasing from them delicate melodies, the wail of the flutes and soft thrumming of the drums carried up through the center of the hometree even in the dead of night. Isonali followed in their footsteps for the first week or so, fixing up all his gear and painstakingly crafting himself a new armguard from a set of payoang scales. His last had been damaged in a scuffle with a nantang the other day while out on a hunt - it had made a grab for the yerik they had caught and had ripped a chunk out of his armguard when Isonali fought it off. 

"You're quite lucky." Ora'nya had said, helping him patch up the cut on his arm. "Nantang bites are usually a lot worse than this. It must not have been too hungry, otherwise it would not have given up so easily."

His armguard may have saved his hide, quite literally, but it was left irreparably damaged, parts of it torn to shreds by the Nantang's vicious bite. Isonali had let it go without much sentiment, burying what was left of it in the soft dirt near a tree so the leather would decompose quickly, head already spinning with the design of the next. Ki'lyi'lya had happily furnished him with some payoang scales when he brought it up, watching with curiosity as Isonali bored holes in the ends, bringing the overlapping scales together so they formed a solid sleeve covering his right forearm. 

Since his first kill on the hunt with Ora'nya Isonali had gone out with her several more times, bringing back a couple of successful kill. None had been as good as the first. He'd only managed to down the yerik, not kill them immediately, and Isonali had ended their lives with a swift movement of his dagger, piercing deep into their hearts as he whispered a thanks. 

"Each hunter has their own way of saying it." Ora'nay explained. "Some thank them for their sacrifice, others simply wish them a swift journey to Eywa. It's up to what you say. Some do not say anything at all, but that is rarer. They show their respect in different ways."

The first time had been awkward, and Isonali glanced at Ora'nya hesitantly before leaning down - feeling rather silly as he spoke to the cooling body of the yerik, its blood still warm on his hands. "May you feel no pain and your spirit return to the Great Mother. Thank you."

Ora'nya didn't say anything. When he looked up she was dealing with her own kill, already cutting into it's belly and removing the innards. They would take anything edible with them, sometimes the intestines too, once cleaned out, but the rest was left behind for the scavengers to find. Most times the scent of the kill attracted them before they'd even left the scene, forcing them to drive them away, but most days the worst they'd run into were nantang or riti, small flying predators with barbed tail and a taste for fresh meat. 

His lessons with Eytukan continued to go well, though Isonali rarely managed to hit a yerik after it startled and started running. His aim was good enough on a stationary target but it faltered under stress, leaving him more determined than ever to get the hang of it. 

Outside his increased hours of archery training, Isonali had taken to catching up with friends, using the free time provided by the long twilight to go out on trips with Tsu'tey or sit with Neytiri, watching her carve beads. Once or twice he even visited Klethayi, staying with her for several hours as she showed him how to manipulate his hair into ever more complex designs. 

"You're getting better at it." Klethayi noted, watching Isonali tie together the final strands of his braid. It was probably one of the most complicated he'd done, twisting around itself and down his back in two dozen tightly wound strands. Klethayi had only had to correct him three times before he got it right. 

"I should hope so." Isonali replied, running his hands over the braid. He hadn’t cut his hair in months, but somehow never realized just how long it was getting until he let it down to replate it. The length surprised him every time. "Considering the amount of hours you've spent teaching me."

"You know it is no trouble." Klethayi replied, tone brooking no argument. Once she said something it might as well be iron clad truth. Isonali dared anyone to say otherwise and risk facing the scathing displeasure of her frown."It keeps me busy, especially helpful these days."

"These days?" Isonali asked, a little concerned. The troubles with the skypeople had mostly subsided months ago and the long twilight, while novel to him, was nothing out of the ordinary for most of the Omaticaya. And yet he didn't think that was what she was talking about. "Is there something wrong?"

"I am with child." Klethayi replied bluntly, and Isonali coughed, choking on his own breath as he stared at her, startled. "It did not seem right, in such dark times, but I cannot deny I had been thinking of a second child. Eywa saw fit to grant me one."

"Oh- Um. Congratulations." Isonali said, feeling awkward as anything but genuinely happy for her and Lo'ak. Lallan was a joy, just becoming old enough to get into all sorts of mischief. More than once he and Tsu'tey had been recruited to keep an eye on her while Lo'ak was out on patrol and Klethayi had other duties to attend to. It had taken all their combined effort to stop her sticking every new thing she came across in her mouth and climbing up anything that stayed still long enough for her to get a hand hold. "Are you hoping for a girl or a boy?"

"It does not matter. No doubt Lo'ak will spoil them either way." Klethayi nodded, hand coming down to touch her stomach protectively. It must still be pretty early on because Isonali could only make out a hint of a bump. He tried to imagine what Klethayi would be like pregnant, and paled, resolving to make himself scarce when the mood swings started - Klethayi was a force to be reckoned with on a good day, and that was without adding a whole bunch of hormones playing merry havoc in her body. 

Klethayi left him not long after, excusing herself with a regal nod after extracting a promise from him to meet up again the next week. Isonali stared after her a little while, still feeling rather stunned by the sudden announcement, then got up, wandering off in search of something to do. He ran into Tsu'tey near the entrance to the great cavern, sitting in front of a set of drums, for once catching him in a moment of free time. 

Tsu'tey paused his playing as Isonali approached, hands coming to rest of the tight surface of the drums. He raised his eyebrow at him, smiling wryly as he spotted Isonali's elaborate braid. "You’ve been with Klethayi, I see."

"Did you know she's pregnant?" Isonali blurted. 

"No." Tsu'tey said. "But I am not surprised. Lo'ak has been grinning all week - not odd, perhaps, but usually he does not sing so much."

"Huh." Isonali said, plonking himself down beside Tsu'tey. "I didn't expect to see you here. Usually you're so busy with patrols and training."

"My father insisted. He told me I should take a couple of days to myself. That rest is one of the most important parts of training." Tsu'tey sounded almost sullen when he said it, and Isonali bumped shoulders with him teasingly. 

"I don't know. Sounds like good advice to me." Isonali said, remembering well the time Ateyo had given him the same speech. Perhaps Tsu'tey was rubbing off at him. He didn't think he'd be half as studious if Tsu’tey weren't always working so hard, forcing Isonali to train too or risk not seeing him at all for days.  

Tsu'tey's tail flicked thoughtfullyly and he shrugged. "There is wisdom in his words, though I may not always see it. But what of you? You have done what? Five? Successful hunts now. That is of some merit."

"It was just some yerik." Isonali replied, feeling a flush of pride despite his protests. "It's no talioang."

"No word of your Iknimaya then?" Tsu'tey asked. Isonali shook his head. "I would not worry about it. It will come when you are ready. If it takes longer then it gives you more time to practice."

"I didn't really expect them to say anything." Isonali admitted. "Not yet at least. I still have a lot to learn, I know that. I'm not ashamed to admit it."

"Nor should you forget how far you've come already." Tsu'tey argued. "A year ago you did not even know how to hold a bow. Now you are hunting yerik - killing them with a single blow if what I hear is correct."

"That was one time." Isonali said. "I'm not that good."

"I do not believe you." Tsu'tey said. "You are too modest. It does not suit you."

"Go back to drumming." Isonali chuckled, leaning back against the trunk of the hometree. "The long twilight must have gone to your head. You're talking nonsense."

Tsu'tey huffed, amused, but his hands took up a beat against the drums a moment later, a quick and lively tune filling the air between them. It took Isonali a moment to recognize it and when he did he tapped along to the beat, fingers drumming the rhythm of six against his leg. 

Tsu'tey noticed him tapping against his leg and stopped, offering him the drums. "Do you want to try?"

"I'm terrible at music, you know that. I couldn't sing if my life depended on it. Hya'liyu can attest to that." Isonali protested, cheeks warming in a blush. The couple of hours he's spent with the ancient song keeper had been at once wonderful and humiliating. Hya'liyu's singing put birdsong to shame, sweeping the listener along like a leaf in the river, mesmerizing and enchanting. In comparison Isonali's own attempts were as painful as they were embarrassing.

"This is a drum, not singing." Tsu'tey said, pushing the drum towards him. Isonali glanced at it hesitantly then reached out, tapping his hand across the surface. The skin of the drum vibrated beneath his hands and he could feel the note vibrate through it when the wooden side touched his leg.  

"You can do more than that." Tsu'tey said. "Use both hands. Like this." He lent over, beating his hands across the drum in quick succession. The beat was dizzyingly quick and Isonali didn't managed to catch more than the first two motion. 

"Stop. Stop. Go slower." Isonali said. "Please."

Tsu'tey glanced at him, corner of his mouth turning up in an amused smile, but he did as Isonali asked, repeating the drum-pattern out more slowly. Isonali copied it as best he could, nodding when Tsu'tey corrected him here and there, shifting his hands to different positions on the drum. 

* * *

Isonali's habit of taking walks in the jungle alone continued throughout the long twilight, though these days it was less of a desperate attempt to escape his thoughts and more because he had come to enjoy having some time to himself - to relax and think without being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the clan. More often than not these days it involved hunting of some sort, following tracks or reading the noise of the forest even when he didn't intend to hunt. 

Ora'nya was partially responsible for this change. She encouraged him to try hunting by himself, emphasizing the importance of practicing his skills without someone there to act as a crutch. Isonali hadn't yet gotten around to actually killing something alone yet but his trips had definitely take on a new sense of intent, his wanderings less aimless than they had once been. 

Perhaps it was not so wise to wander around during the long twilight, especially now that it had reached its peak and the jungle was the darkest it would be - hiding the jungle's dangers more effectively than ever before - but Isonali wasn't deterred. He could recognize most of the animals in the Omaticaya lands by call alone and knew better than to draw too close to unknown plants, many of which had the nasty habit of hiding poisons or exploding spines.

Still, he hadn't expected to run into danger so close to the hometree. The only warning he got an instant of silence in the jungle before he heard the whoosh of displaced air behind him and threw himself to the side. Something went flying past his head, lost in the undergrowth, a second later emitting a grating screech from somewhere within the ferns. Isonali drew closer, dagger in hand.

What he found in the ferns was... odd. It was a creature, that much was obvious, but from what he could see it had no legs, no way of moving. It was shaped vaguely like a V, body ending in a long pointed spine at the front of its face and two smooth horns that branched backwards, neat webbing of its wings half-visible beneath its body. He could almost make out a small set of eyes watching him, the screeching emanating from somewhere within. 

Engrossed in watching the creature he almost missed the sound of shifting leaves behind him.

Isonali turned just in time for something to come crashing into him, knocking him to the ground. He kicked out, trying to wriggle away from it's stamping legs but all that did was give the creature his position. It swung around, enormous maw open, eye-less face turning in his direction, and then it was upon him once more, teeth snapping shut in the air just above his shoulder as Isonali flattened himself against the ground. It came at him again, mouth opened wide, revealing rows of serrated teeth, the smaller creature screeching the whole time from within the ferns. 

One of it's legs got him in the chest, forcing from the air from his lungs with a painful crack and Isonali lashed out with his dagger, burying it deep in the creature's side. It howled, thrashing even harder, clawing at him, but Isonali didn't let it recover, yanking out the dagger and stabbing it again, deep in the side of it's neck. 

Blood poured over his hands, droplets spraying across his face as Isonali twisted the dagger, riding through the creature's death throes. It lashed out at him one final time before slumping to the side, chest rising and falling weakly. It was losing blood quickly and with each rivulet that soaked into the ground the creature grew weaker, legs twitching as it struggled to right itself. Wincing, Isonali levered himself into a sitting position, flinching when he prodded his ribs gently - cracked, at least, if not broken. 

He stared at the creature, not sure what to make of it. It was the same brilliant red as the smaller creature, but their sizes were incomparable. The smaller one had been maybe the size of Isonali's forearm, whereas this one reached the massive height of more than two meters. The sight of it sent a chill down his spine. He'd gotten lucky and he knew it. By all rights he should have been dead - if not struck by the smaller flying one then crushed beneath the enormous weight of the larger one. 

Isonali let out a shaky breath, slowly getting to his feet, then turned to inspect the ferns once more. The smaller one was still screeching away in the ferns, calling for something that would never come, and as Isonali watched the larger one finally expired, its chest going still. The screeching trailed off, quieting to a desolate whimper. Isonali glanced into the ferns, not quite sure how to feel about this. The two creatures had almost killed him, would likely have killed him if he hadn't gotten lucky, and yet he felt almost sorry for the thing. 

From what he'd seen it wouldn't be able to survive by on its own, wouldn't even be able to move. Left there it would die - from starvation if something else didn't come across it first. A slow death or a quick one, but death nonetheless. 

"What the hell am I doing?" Isonali mumbled as he searched around, wiping the blood from his dagger and cutting loose some vines from a nearby tree. Its dark eyes were fixed on him, wings twitching uselessly as he knelt beside it, avoiding its biting mouth as he picked it up and slid it into his makeshift net. It screeched the whole time he touched it, wings shifting as it struggled to get away from him. Maybe someone at the clan would know what to do with it. If not… well, if not he could put it out of its misery quickly rather than leave it to suffer.  

He glanced down at it, secured safely in the net. It screeched at him, biting uselessly at the vines, and Isonali sighed, looking away. It would be a long walk back to the hometree if the things kept screeching the whole time.

Isonali must have made quite a sight coming back because his arrival caused quite a stirr. It was only after remembering he was still splattered in blood that he smiled sheepishly and reassuring people he was okay. It was too little too late. Some worried soul had already sent for Mo'at and before Isonali knew it people were appearing out of the woodwork from every direction, new of his injury spreading like a wildfire. 

Tsu'tey grabbed his shoulder, appearing through the crowd. Ateyo was a step behind him, concern evident on their faces. "Isonali. I heard you were injured."

"Um- Well, a little, but it's not as bad at it looks." Isonali said. He had a couple of scratches from where the larger one had managed to claw him and his ribs still shocked him every time he breathed too deeply, but it was nowhere as bad as the blood suggested. 

"What happened? Did the skypeople attack?" Tsu'tey asked urgently. Isonali shook his head, holding up the net to reveal the creature within. The crowd gasped, drawing back, murmurs growing even louder. 

"What? What is it?" Isonali asked when Tsu'tey went pale faced, drawing him into a tight embrace. Isonali could feel the way his breath hitched, shaky, before Tsu'tey withdrew again, taking a step back. Still, Isonali noticed he didn't release him, hand staying protectively on Isonali's arm. 

"You do not know how blessed you are." Ateyo said gravely. "That you return to us alive. The prey of the lenay'ga do not often escape. Those that do too often succumb to its poison. Tell me - did it bite you?"

"What- No. It tried, but it missed." Isonali replied. Ateyo nodded, his relief evident. 

"Blessed indeed." Ateyo said. "Come, we should take you to the healing chambers. It is best to see your wounds treated to before sickness enters them."

Tsu'tey stuck by his side as they hustled him to the healing chambers, never straying more than a few paces from his side. Ateyo had taking a careful hold of the net and the creature within and he followed closely behind them, several other Na'vi accompanying them to help clear the way before them. Mo'at met them halfway and when she saw the creature in the net her face went grim, staying that way until Isonali reassured her strongly that he hadn't been bitten. 

"Eywas must look upon you with great favor, child, for you survive a palulukan and a lenay'ga as well." Mo'at murmured as she lead him through the curtain of vines and into the healing chamber. She didn't comment when Tsu'tey and Ateyo followed them in, sitting him down on one of the mats, Tsu'tey taking a spot at his side while Ateyo lingered near the entrance. The she was off again, gliding to a stop before the wall of medicines, peering into the bowls until she found the one she was looking for. She returned a moment later with a bowl of water and a handful of moss, passing them to Tsu’tey."Wash the blood off him. I need to see the cuts."

Tsu'tey did as she said, soaking the moss in the water. He turned to Isonali, hesitating, and Isonali nodded, holding out his arm. "Go on. I don't mind." Going by the look on the clan's faces he'd underestimated how dangerous the creature had been, how close he’d really been to losing his life. He didn't mind indulging Tsu'tey a little and putting up with a bit of over-protectiveness if that's what it took to make him feel better. 

Tsu'tey was surprisingly gently, washing away the blood with slow swipes of the blood, stopping every few swipes to soak the moss in the water and wring out the blood. By the end of it the water had turned red with blood and Isonali’s cut were bared to their air, blood of his own weeping sluggishly from the wounds. He'd need to bathe properly to get rid of all the stray drops but the worst of it was gone. He thanked Tsu'tey when he was done, noting the way Tsu'tey's face was still a few shade paler than normal. 

Mo'at wasted no time in inspecting the cuts. Most of them were shallow but there were quite a few of them dotted across his arms as chest where the creature had lashed out at him blindly. She cleaned them out with a stinging paste then turned to inspect his ribs, noticed when he winced at her prodding. "They are not broken." She concluded. "Only fractured." And warned him strictly to rest for the next few weeks after prescribing him a tincture of tawtsngal to help with the pain. 

Tsu'tey continues to linger around him protectively in the following days and Isonali often looked up to find him watching him, as if reassuring himself that Isonali was still there. At Ateyo's urging Isonali told the warriors where he'd had his run in with the lenay'ga and two days later they return with its body. It's appearance drew attention, even days dead, and many gathered to inspect the body, prodding at its claws and sightless face. It had been sick, they learnt, already weakened and dying when it came after him. It was probably the only reason he'd escaped with his life. 

Lenay’ga were rare in Omaticaya lands, the last having been seen more than twenty years ago. From what he understood they generally dwelled in the deepest parts of the jungle, hunting larger prey - pa'li mostly, though they were known to go after angtisks. The smaller creature was the offspring of the larger, living symbiotically with it's mother and acting as her head until it reached maturity. It was launched as a dart while hunting, paralysing their prey with poison and leading the blind mother to it with its call. It was rare to find orphaned darts but it had happened on occasion, some Na’vi even developing a way to hunt with them.

The one Isonali had found still shrieked whenever someone moved it and glared at everyone came close, but it accepted meat when it was offered, settling into captivity sullenly. Isonali wasn't quite sure what to do with it and tried offering it to Eytukan and Ateyo in turn when he discovered it could still be used for hunting. 

"It is not done." Tsu'tey explained when Isonali came to him, confused by their refusal. "It is an honor to have one, a mark of great strength. If you do not want it you must kill it, for no other will take it. To do so would be to take claim for the death of the mother, an honor rightfully yours."

"Still." Isonali replied, glancing at the dart. "I really have no idea what to do with it."

"There has not been a lenay'ga hunter in our clan for seven generations." Tsu'tey replied. "Should you choose to keep it talk to Eytukan. He will send a messenger to the Atinikya clan. Rumor is that they currently have a lenay'ga hunter. If willing they might come and train you."

Isonali sighed, no closer to coming to a decision than days ago. His current training already took up more hours in the day than he'd even thought possible - adding to that workload seemed downright mad. And yet... And yet he still couldn't bring himself to kill the creature. He had killed its mother, orphaned it, and he couldn't help but feel some measure of responsibility for that. Isonali knew what it was like to be alone in the world, parent-less, and he found himself empathizing with it. Even if it was a cold-hearted killing machine that had tried to poison and eat him. 

Ateyo had warned him strongly about the danger of its bite, so Isonali didn't touch it if he couldn't help it, but sometimes he found himself watching it, the gleam of the fire light against its red hide and the delicate quiver of its wings as it tried to shift in the net. It talked to itself sometimes, making tiny crooning noises that Isonali only caught when he was sitting absolutely still or laying in his hammock waiting to fall asleep. 

"I don't know how you find these creatures." Tsu'tey said, watching Isonali observe the creature. It was time to feed it and Isonali was feeding small chunks of yerik meat through the net on the end of a sharp stick. "You seem to attract the most dangerous creatures in the jungle."

"Hardly." Isonali protested, cutting up another bit of meat and impaling it on the stick. His hands were already slick with blood, cold and tacky. Isonali would have to wash them. "I'm just unlucky." 

"I'm sure." Tsu'tey replied dryly. "If your newest scratches were deep enough to scar you'd almost look like a fkio, the way it patterns your hide. Perhaps you should paint your scars like the Li'ona. Fill your wounds with dye so that the scars never fade."

"Like a tattoo?" Isonali asked, imagining it. He shook his head. His scars were prominent enough as it was. The Palulukan scars had long healed but even a year later they stood out on his skin and didn't seem to have faded at all whereas the thin cuts left by the ele'wll's spines across his arms were almost invisible unless you were already looking, hidden amongst the stripes on his skin. "Sounds too painful. And anyway, I doubt it would suit me."

"Ta'too." Tsu'tey repeated, his tail flicking curiously. "You always come up with the strangest words, Isonali."

Isonali shifted uncomfortably, but shrugged, letting it go. He'd given up trying to explain where the words came from, save that they were probably English and something to do with his life before joining the Omaticaya. He still had nightmares sometimes about things he couldn't remember but even now, a year later, his memory was no closer to returning. Only the briefest hints sometimes slipped through - a sound, a stray thought, the smell of dust and ink - but never anything concrete. 

After his victory against the lenay'ga there had been some talk of him perhaps being ready for Iknimaya - even sick it was a difficult kill, and one that many argued should be enough to qualify him. Eytukan even went to far as to visit him in the healing chambers to discuss it, and seemed to approve when Isonali agreed he wasn't ready. 

"It was mostly luck." Isonali had explained. "I didn't defeat it because of my skills - my archery or riding. I ran across it completely by accident and just happened to put my dagger in the right place. I do want to take part in Iknimaya, more than anything, just-" He shrugged. "When it's time. When I'm actually ready."

"You are wise for your age." Eytukan said, a hint of pride in his eyes. "You have learnt much in a year but the path to Iknimaya is long, and you have not finished treading it. We will speak of this again in a year. Perhaps then you will be ready."

Perhaps Isonali should have been disappointed, but Eytukan's words only increased his drive to do better, learn more. He had one year to train, to prove himself, and he would do all that he could to prove Eytukan's faith in him right - he would be ready in a year, even if he had to work night and day to make it so. 

**Author's Note:**

> Creature directory:  
> Fwampop - http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Tapirus


End file.
